


Echo My Heart

by TeddyKrueger



Series: Echo My Heart [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Anxiety, Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Shiro (Voltron), Gen, Hunay, I'm making my dreams come true, I've always thought of Pidge dating a girl, Implied Kizavi, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mute!Lance, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Pimelle, SUPER offscreen, Slow Burn, Soulmarks, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-06-25 16:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 85,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15644142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeddyKrueger/pseuds/TeddyKrueger
Summary: “Uh. Lance? What’s going on?” Hunk asks. He looks less at me and more at the mullet-head with my beloved drink all over him. I could ask Hunk to back me up here, but no. I’ve got this. I deal with stupid people all the time. What’s another one?“You gonna answer me?” Keith demands. “What the fuck is your problem?”“Language,” Shiro warns.I start typing and only look up for a second when Keith scoffs. “So you’re gonna play with your phone are you kidd—”I shove my phone in his face. His eyes widen a bit as he digests what’s on the screen. He huffs and tears the paper towels out of Shiro’s hand.“Whatever. Watch it next time.”It’s been awhile since I’ve wanted to talk back, but I’m glad I’m not going to. I mean, I can’t.I delete the message with a smug grin, knowing that at least part of his day is ruined.“I’m mute, asshole.”





	1. Ruffled Feathers

Before this year, the worst class slot you could get was at 9:30 AM. I’m not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination. I may look high-energy 24/7, but that’s after my daily double Red Eye.

Well, I can’t get my coffee in the mornings anymore. I can barely get dressed before class without feeling like my entire body is shutting down. That’s because The Garrison, as we like to call it, has an insane administration that somehow decided the first classes of the day should start at 8 AM.

This wouldn’t have affected me if I didn’t have a few gen eds to take and a couple lower-levels for my major, but alas, luck is never on my side.

I’m only sort of satisfied at the glazed-over looks in everyone else’s eyes when I walk into my Intro to Physics II class. Most of them are scattered two or three rows back, but I choose the front. It’s harder for me to get distracted when I know the professor could call me out for it at any time.

I recognize a couple people from my other courses, but there’s nobody I really know. Hunk, the best buddy a guy didn’t even have to ask for, managed to get a spot in another time slot for the same class, so while we can study together, he can’t help me out in here.

The bulk of the students are trickling in and I spot one in particular cross in front of the long table that makes up the front row. He slides his way into the middle a couple seats down. He’s close enough that I can get a good look.

As opposed to the rest of the room, he looks perfectly awake. His hair shows no signs of bedhead and his clothes look freshly ironed. You’d think he’d look somewhat ruffled considering it’s freezing cold outside and there’s icy rain, but no. The only sign of any tiredness at all are his dark circles, but it’s only the first day. He got those from something else.

He side-eyes me and I realize I’ve been staring at him for way too long. To be fair, when a dude walks in the room at 8 AM looking ready to tackle the day, it’s sort of a spectacle.

I check my phone and it’s a minute before 8. Just then, a man I’m pretty sure is the professor strides in and places a disorganized pile of papers on his personal table. A few slip from his grasp and he makes no effort to put them back in order when he grabs them up again.

“Good morning, class!” he declares, sifting through his papers. He gives a small “aha!” and hands a stack of syllabi to the first person at the end of each row.

“Hmm. It seems like this is a rather small class, so come closer together. I won’t bite and I doubt your classmates will either.” He makes a motion signalling for the back of the class to move forward and the rest of us to fill up the gaps in the front.

Now I’ve got Morning Glory as my seat neighbor and I don’t know if I can complain about that. If I’m gonna have to be in 8 AM hell, at least I get to be next to a guy who’s damn good-looking. Although, maybe that wouldn’t be good for my concentration. Who knows.

I continue to hand down the syllabi, grabbing my own in the process. At the top of the sheet I find the professor’s name: Dr. Coran H.W. Smythe. Sounds like someone raised by a posh European family. From his accent, though, he sounds like he’s from somewhere like Australia or...New Zealand? I can never tell the difference.

“Today we’re just going to go over the syllabus and I will let you out early. No reason to teach today,” Dr. Smythe says. “You’re free to stick around and mingle if you so choose.”

He goes over the academic policies including the zero-tolerance policy for plagiarism and cheating (“You will not succeed in life if you take the easy way out!”). He also tells us that we can just call him Coran. I like this guy already.

It’s not long before we’re done. I’m grateful because I need caffeine now or I’m not gonna make it through the rest of the day.

I have to walk off-campus to get my coffee, my face no doubt turning red from the temperature outside while I do so. There’s one on-campus, but I prefer this one. I know the owners and they’re pretty great.

Warm air whooshes at me as I open the door, the aroma of freshly ground coffee and chai following suit. I feel more alive already. The line isn’t too bad considering it’s extra early, which may be my favorite, and only, perk of getting up at this godawful time. I spy two people working, one I know and the other I don’t. The second is probably new. The guy I’m looking for isn’t behind the bar at first, but as if he knew I walked in, he pops out of the back room and takes over for the cashier.

When I’m up at the register I wave and he greets me back, his nametag proudly announcing that his name is Shiro. “The usual?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

I nod and smile as he passes it down to the barista. I don’t really like to bother Shiro at work, so that’s the usual extent of our conversation. Not that I mind. Sometimes I like short moments with people. Balances out all the major stuff that goes on.

As I’m waiting for my order, the skin beneath the band on my left wrist begins to itch. I must’ve forgotten to check the words this morning. For some reason they tend to do that if you leave them for long enough. They’re like a separate entity that needs to breathe, albeit not as much as us.

I unravel the leather strings that hold the band together and only open it enough to see what’s tattooed there today.

_They better not make us do those stupid self-introductions this week._

I grin at the red writing and wrap it back up. I know exactly how he feels. Introductions suck. There’s never a good enough fun fact you can tell and it’s just awkward. I always forget which order I’m supposed to put everything in. Is it name, year, major, fact or name, major, year, fact? I’m positive the point of the first week of classes is to confuse everyone.

“Lance?” the barista, Allura, calls, placing my drink on the counter. I shoot her some finger guns and she rolls her eyes. “You know you don’t have to do that every time you see me, right?”

She’s wrong and I shoot her a smirk to tell her so. She waves me off and I comply, pouring the sweet sweet nectar that is coffee and espresso down my throat.

  


* * *

  


Hands down Coran is my favorite professor of the day because this dude Dr. Zarkon is a piece of work.

“Nobody passes this class with an A. If you somehow manage to get one in this class, I’d be worried about me finding out you plagiarized,” he growls. “Be late to class and you’re locked out. End of story. I don’t have time for people who don’t take their education seriously.”

I have to refrain from yawning because he was going on and on earlier about how it’s disrespectful and not allowed in his class. I’m dying and Hunk’s not doing much better. His eyes are starting to droop and it’s only 10:30. He’s less of a morning person than I am if that’s possible.

Heading into the cold is a welcome respite from the class of Satan himself. Hunk is ambling along, trying to keep pace with me. I slow down a little so I don’t leave him behind.

“Was it just me, or did that guy have dictator written all over?” he asks.

I send a puff of air out of my nose and nod in agreement.

“Coffee. Please,” he begs.

I put my arm around his shoulder and we head to the warm embrace that is Shiro and Allura’s workplace.

I order a mocha latte instead of another Red Eye ‘cause no one can handle that much caffeine in the course of a few hours. Hunk orders himself a drink resembling a frappucino with an added espresso shot. I give him a look and he says, “Oh come on. This shit is delicious year-round.”

I shrug and smile around my lid. Mine came out far faster than his did because coffee is one of the few areas in which I’m not high-maintenance.

I typically try to keep a gap open for students who are trying to walk through the crowd at the counter, but apparently it’s not wide enough because someone smacks his elbow against my drink and it spills over both of us.

We both hiss at the same time. I’ve dropped coffee on myself before, but that doesn’t stop the pain from being the same every time. Luckily I’m wearing my waterproof coat so only my jeans are wet. I can handle that much. 

I whirl around on the guy and throw my arms up, face contorted because what the fuck? There was so much room there.

When I see him, he’s covered in the other half of my drink and I almost feel bad enough to apologize. Except he ruins it.

“What is your problem?” he asks a little too loudly and walks closer to me. It takes me a second before I realize he’s the guy who sits next to me in physics. Not only do I have to get to class at 8 AM in the dead of winter, but I also have to get to class and sit next to this guy for the rest of the semester.

There’s a flash of movement over by the drink bar and I see Shiro padding over with a mop and a ton of paper towels. He assesses the mess and looks glad when I gesture to my coat to show I’m okay. It’s when he sees the other guy that his face falls.

“Oh man, Keith. It didn’t burn you, did it?”

Keith is holding his winter coat in his hands, meanwhile the coffee had landed on his sweater and I have no doubt it’s seeping into the fabric. 

I tap on Shiro’s shoulder and raise an eyebrow. Why would the wonderful, beautiful, kind Shiro know a prick like this? Maybe he’s just a regular.

“I’m gonna have to go home and change because _somebody_ doesn’t know how to move.”

Shiro puts a hand up to try to calm _Keith_ , but he’s not having any of it. He’s glaring daggers at me and I throw them back his way.

Hunk return with his drink in hand, happy until he sees the situation. He stares along with several other people who are trying to figure out if they need to whip their phones out for a fight. Shiro is looking back and forth between me and Keith and hasn’t made a move to clean anything.

“Uh. Lance? What’s going on?” Hunk asks. He looks less at me and more at the mullet-head with my beloved drink all over him. I could ask Hunk to back me up here, but no. I’ve got this. I deal with stupid people all the time. What’s another one?

“You gonna answer me?” Keith demands. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Language,” Shiro warns.

I start typing and only look up for a second when Keith scoffs. “So you’re gonna play with your phone are you kidd—”

I shove my phone in his face. His eyes widen a bit as he digests what’s on the screen. He huffs and tears the paper towels out of Shiro’s hand.

“Whatever. Watch it next time.”

It’s been awhile since I’ve wanted to talk back, but I’m glad I’m not going to. I mean, I can’t. 

I delete the message with a smug grin, knowing that at least part of his day is ruined.

_“I’m mute, asshole.”_

Shiro begins to mop up. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “He’s not usually like that.”

I sign back, _“I honestly doubt that he’s a ray of sunshine anytime else.”_

He sighs. “Just, I’ll talk to him. He’s kind of like my kid brother so sometimes he listens to me.”

_“How is it possible that he comes from the same family as you?!”_

“I’ll talk to him. It’ll be fine.” He salutes both Hunk and me and gets back to work.

Hunk and I head home. Shiro was nice enough to get me another drink, but it doesn’t taste as good combined with the bitterness of dealing with Keith.

_“So what happened there?”_ Hunk signs.

_“Douchebag smacked into me, didn’t say sorry, and then got in my face.”_

Hunk laughs and I shoot him a glare. _“For what it’s worth, the look on his face when you told him you can’t talk was priceless.”_

I smirk the memory. Considering what just happened, I think I came out on top. The only thing he came out on top of is my shitlist.

Hunk starts talking out loud again which signals that the shit-talking is over. He’s always worried about the wrong person overhearing us even though no one cares.

“So how’s that 8 AM?” he asks, trying to sound innocent but we both know better.

_“Torture. Keith sits right next to me.”_

“It might not be that bad. Who knows? Maybe he’ll apologize.”

I screw up my face. _“1) No way he will. 2) I’m not accepting it.”_

He switches back to signing. _“It’ll be fine, dude. Worry about it on Thursday.”_

I shrug and he says, “So anyways, I have to meet up with Pidge. I promised I’d give them a tour.”

Pidge is our new roommate. Usually freshmen stay in the dorms, but they had a bit of trouble with their original roommate. The roommate was a light sleeper and didn’t appreciate Pidge tapping away at their computer all night. Lucky for them they don’t have to worry about that as we have separate rooms.

I didn’t hear any of that from them, though. I get bits and pieces from whatever Hunk knows, but that’s it. Actually, I don’t think I’ve said more than ten words to them since they moved in. Not like they’re trying to communicate either, but it’s kinda uncomfortable. It’s not like the easy flow I have with Hunk.

_“I’ll head home then.”_

He taps me on the shoulder and I look his way. _“You gonna be okay?”_ he signs.

I make the most serious face possible and look him dead in the eyes. _“I’m already planning my revenge.”_

“I’ll take that as a no then.” 

  


* * *

  


Thursday rolls around and I almost forget about the “not as attractive as I thought he’s kind of a dick” guy.

I remember perfectly well when I spot him sitting in the same exact spot as last time, right next to my seat.

I stare him down from behind as I approach. I drop my bag to the floor with a thump when I get to my chair. He jumps a tiny bit and I almost grin, but I’ve gotta stay stoic. I can’t let him throw me off guard even a little.

I sit down and jostle him in the process. “Oops,” I mouth.

He looks at me incredulously. “Are you kidding me? Seriously?”

I shrug and type on my phone. _“It’s something I learned from you. Are you really that surprised?”_

He raises an eyebrow at me and tries to talk back, but I put my hand up. I cross my arms and place my focus on the whiteboard.

He taps my arm, but I don’t turn. I’m not giving him the satisfaction.

“Jesus Christ. What are you, five?”

I raise three fingers.

He groans. “It’s not like I meant to knock into you. Also you got hot coffee on me so we might as well be even.”

Nope. Even is not a thing we are or will ever be. Not happening. I click my tongue and shake my head.

“Jesus. You can’t even talk and yet you’re still annoying.”

I mouth cuss words as fast as possible before Coran enters the room.

The second he wrestles his papers onto the desk, he makes an announcement. “Well, I hope you like your seatmates because that’s where you’ll be for the rest of the year!” I don’t see the other students looking at each other because I’m too focused on the words coming out of Coran’s mouth. “I’ll also be assigning pairs because a lot of your work will be done in that format. Any late students will be assigned together, so don’t worry about them.”

Coran goes down the rows and assigns pairs. They’re mostly side-by-side except for the ones who have absent partners. It’s only when Coran gets to me that I realize the inevitable: I have to deal with Keith for the rest of the semester not only in class, but out of class as well.

When Coran moves on from assigning us together, Keith leans over and whispers to me. “You wanna stop being a three-year-old now?”

I sign at him and don’t even care if he doesn’t understand because I do.

_“Not a chance.”_

“Now,” Coran starts, “Your first assignment will be a worksheet that should be easy enough. It will include five worded equations and five multiple-choice questions. So pay attention to lecture and you should be perfectly fine.”

While Coran’s explaining charges and Coulomb’s Law, I tap away on my laptop. I’ve been told a thousand times over that writing it down helps you memorize it faster, but trying to keep up is hard for me. Plus, it’s easy to drift off if I’m not constantly moving my hands.

I take peeks at Keith and he’s still wearing a scowl on his face. I also notice he’s only got a note or two written down in his notebook. Great. I get a partner that’s the biggest douchecanoe in the world _and_ he doesn’t pay attention in class. As much as I like Coran, this may be the worst class of all time.

When it’s over, I’m ready to rush out the door and get my morning fix, but I feel a hand on my shoulder from behind. I turn around and there’s my favorite person in the world.

“Look, I know you hate me or whatever, but we kinda need to work on this so let’s set up a time,” Keith says.

I shrug his hand off. _“Hate doesn’t even begin to describe it and fine. But I’ll probably end up doing all of it considering you don’t even take notes,”_ I type.

He tilts his head. “I don’t really like to take that many notes,” he explains. “Hearing it works better for me.”

I narrow my eyes. No way I’m believing that shit even if he does look relatively sincere. _“Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”_

“As much as it pains me to say this, I need your number.”

You know, as much as I hate putting myself at the mercy of his potentially annoying texts, I’m reveling in the idea of being able to annoy him with my own. If I have to deal with him, I might as well make it fun.

I reach out a hand and signal for him to give me his phone. He obliges, I input my number, and then I send myself a text. Once I hear the _ping_ I push past him, waving goodbye with my back turned.

  


* * *

  


Altea smells just as good as last time and warms my bones. Even when I pass by the spot where Keith splattered my latte all over himself, it doesn’t lower my mood. Caffeine is my saving grace.

Allura is up at the cashier today and I lean against the counter, giving her a flirty smile and a wink. People always tell me I don’t have a chance—especially with Shiro gawking at her anytime he can—but I already know. I don’t expect all that much from my flirting. It’s just fun.

“Hi, Lance. I’ve got your order down,” she says, ignoring my attempts to woo her. “Hopefully you don’t spill it on one of our customers this time.”

I whip out my phone and type. _“He knocked into me! He definitely deserved it!”_

“Okay, okay.” She laughs and puts her hands up in defense. “Your coffee will be at the bar as usual. Now shoo so I can get everyone else’s orders together.”

I shoot her finger guns as per usual and get out of the way.

It’s nice being one of a few people in here. It’s different than when Hunk and I come in later. The area near the counter isn’t as squished together, but that’s not really saying much considering how tight the space is. The only noises are the whir of the blender and the pour of fresh espresso. Every once in a while I hear the employees throw a joke at someone else, but talking is kept to a minimum. There’s no even murmur like there usually is.

I love this place because it’s one of the few where I don’t have to write anything down. I just throw a smile at the worker at the cashier and they know what to do. They didn’t start out irritated with me. Shiro was working the first time I came in and when I wrote down my order, he started signing, _“Would you like whipped cream with that?”_

Too many times I’ve walked in somewhere and they don’t want to look at my phone. They want me to talk. They want to make someone else deal with me ‘cause I’m too much of a bother. I stopped minding a long time ago, but I’d rather not have to make extra effort this early in the morning.

I feel my wrist tingling, signalling that I forgot to check once again. This 8 AM thing is keeping me from properly enjoying my other favorite comfort.

_Please tell me that noise wasn’t what I thought it was._

I cover my mouth with my hand. It sounds like my soulmate might be afraid of the dark still.

I first got my soulmark when I turned 13. Instead of one of the most emotionally-charged sentences my soulmate says out loud, I get one of their thoughts written on my wrist. It’s always thoughts from the day before the mark shows up. It gets replaced like clockwork.

I found out I wasn’t quite straight on one particularly odd day where on my arm was written: _Holy shit I am never putting a razor anywhere near my balls_. It would’ve been funnier except I forgot my wristband that day and everyone could and did read it. It’s not so fun being outed by your entire class because your soulmate discovered pubic hair taming.

For the first couple years, I was pretty worried about him. I kept seeing words like, _I didn’t mean to break his nose I was just trying to make him stop or I’m not sure if this is better or worse than before._

As he got older, his thoughts got more hopeful. There were still some words that indicated he got into some fights or he wanted to give up school, but I saw a lot more beautiful words.

_He’s my family and I couldn’t have asked for anything better. Holy crap I actually got a good score how? Oh shit I think guys are cute. I think that’s the first time someone’s told me they love me that wasn’t my dad._

If I could giggle, I would. There’s something about knowing that your other half is experiencing something _good_ that makes it hard to keep myself from smiling. I see other people do it too sometimes. It’s common, but I think it’s so intimate that no one wants to share what’s only meant for them.

I rub my finger over the words and part of me hopes they can feel it. I know they can’t, but considering everything he seems to have been through, I like to believe he feels loved by someone other than his family.

Shiro calls my name and I meet him at the bar. Before I leave, he signs to me, _“Did things go okay with Keith?”_

I feel my face tense up and I shake my head. He doesn’t attempt further conversation and I just go.

  


* * *

  


I’m learning that classes with Dr. Zarkon are going to be pure bullshit. He has a lecture ready and is calling on people to answer questions from the readings. He isn’t taking volunteers, instead choosing students at a whim. Today he also chooses me.

I go to pull out my whiteboard out of habit. The first week of class is usually when I let them know what’s going on. I start to write on it, but I’m stopped.

“What are you doing with that?” he asks in a low growl.

I look to Hunk for help because he can explain faster than I can write.

“Sir, he’s—”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he says, shutting Hunk up.

I try to finish writing and Dr. Zarkon is only getting more and more aggressive. He wants the answer. I’m trying, but it’s distracting. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me.

I finally have it and I raise my whiteboard up high, making sure he doesn’t miss it. I scrawled _”I’m mute, but the answer is the bourgeoisie.”_

His face doesn’t change, but he leaves it be for a little while. I think he’s going to stop bothering me until he calls on me again. Then again. Then again. Usually professors just don’t call on me. This guy is on another level.

I don’t speak to him after class ‘cause I’m not sure what I’ll say. Purposefully pushing at my buttons is one thing. Trying to trip me up in front of the whole class is another.

Hunk tries to console me, but nothing is gonna help right now. I just need to be away from Zarkon.

I feel and hear my phone alert me to a text. I check and groan. Let’s add on to my glorious day.

**Mullet-Head: when do u wanna meet?**

**Me: I don’t, but I’m pretty sure it’s a requirement so…**

**Mullet-Head: just tell me when.**

**Me: I don’t have classes tomorrow. Just meet me at our special spot.**

**Mullet-Head: do u even know how to let things go?**

**Me: Nope. Not trying to learn.**

**Mullet-Head: good to know.**  
**Mullet-Head: does 3 work for u?**

**Me: I’ll attempt to show up.**

**Mullet-Head: great**

**Me: Super.**

I look up to find Hunk signing at me. _“What was that about? You look pissed.”_

_“I’m partnered up with Keith for my 8 AM. We have to meet up for assignments THE WHOLE SEMESTER.”_

The corners of Hunk’s lips are downturned. _“You think you can handle this?”_

_“Handle Keith? Easy.”_

_“I meant not acting like you’re a toddler.”_

_“I resent that.”_

Hunk shrugs and goes back to speaking. “Just don’t declare war on him right now. You need him to at least tolerate you.”

I nod, but not quite in agreement. I’m still gonna make things hard on him.

  


* * *

  


I purposefully get to Altea ten minutes late because I know he always shows up before me. When I peer in the window, I spot him with a textbook out and a copy of our assignment in his hands. There’s a coffee cup on the table that I’m hoping he’s not going to be using for retaliation.

I saunter up to his table and pull a chair out, making it screech against the floor. I plop down and cross my arms on the table. He looks up to acknowledge me, but his expression stays unimpressed as usual. Good.

I start writing a note for him to read, but remember I have his number. I can just text him. So I do. _“I’m sure you don’t need any help because you’re so attentive in class.”_

He opens the message and shrugs. “Whatever you wanna believe. Let’s just start.”

I have nothing to say to that. I pull out my own copy of the assignment and start working. Neither of us say anything to each other, which I don’t mind. He’s better when he’s not talking, although not by much.

I’m trying to work through a problem on the strength of Coulomb’s force in relation to gravitational force when Keith leans back and stretches.

“Done,” he announces. “I’m getting more coffee. Want anything?”

I sneer. Apparently he’s not planning on backing down from my intimidation techniques any time soon. This’ll be an interesting challenge. _“We’re checking your work against mine because no way in hell you got any of that right.”_

“I guess that’s a no then.”

He stands in line while I keep working through the question I’m on. I’m a psych major. Why the hell do I need to know the mathematical formula for electrostatic force? The gen ed system at this school is the worst.

Before I can finish he comes back, two coffee cups in hand. I like my caffeine, but I could never finish off three cups. He might be insane.

He places one down closest to him, but then places the other closest to me. I stare at it like it’s ready to bite me. Wouldn’t put it past him to figure out how to make that happen. Oh, Shiro. Your brother is an evil, evil soul.

“It’s still your fault that coffee spilled on me, but I’m trying not to be a complete dick so just drink it.”

I eye it and reach out. On the label I see written in messy scrawl the words “mocha latte w/ whip.” I take my phone off the table. _“Why is Shiro telling you my order?”_

He spins his phone around in his hand. “It’s not hard to figure out once you get it all over your clothes.”

Is he being...nice? That’s not normal. That’s definitely not normal. There’s a catch here.

_“What are you even drinking? Black coffee? Wouldn’t be surprised if you were into something disgusting like that.”_ I mean, at least I put espresso and half-and-half in mine so I’m not being a hypocrite.

He takes a sip and winces a little. “It’s a dirty chai. What’s the point in caffeine if you can’t enjoy it?”

Oh, he’s good. He’s trying relate. Bet his regular order is black coffee and he just ordered this because he’s getting tired out from my plan.

I click my tongue. _“Whatever. Let me correct your answers.”_

“If there’s anything to correct.”

Coran gave us the answers to the worksheet because he believes it’s the only way to make sure we’re doing everything right. He won’t give us points without showing the work, though, but that doesn’t matter ‘cause Keith’s definitely done it. He’s also definitely answered every single question right. What the fuck?

_“You don’t even pay attention!”_

“Did you miss the part about how listening is better for me than writing it down?”

I gape at him. No way. No way is he better than me. I’m not perfect, sure, but I do well when I work at things. He just finished all of his questions in the time I could only manage to finish half and he’s got it all correct. Show-off.

_“I bet you’re retaking the class and that’s why you know how to do this.”_ It’s the only explanation.

He scoffs. “Sounds like you’re the one who needs to pay more attention.”

I don’t bother responding and get back to my own work. I can feel his eyes on me, but I try to concentrate. He opens his mouth a couple times, but doesn’t say anything. After the fifth time of him doing it, I lose my patience.

_“What?!”_

“Nothing, I just…” He points to the third line of work on my paper. “You calculated that number wrong and it’s throwing you off.”

I would growl if I could because he’s right again. _“Why don’t we just turn in your paper since you’re so smart.”_

He shrugs. God he does that way too much. “That’s fine with me. We’ll get full points and not have to worry about your inability to do basic multiplication.”

I’m not horrible at math, but it’s not like I’ve done anything serious since high school. In my major we’re more focused on stats than anything, so this kind of math is just annoying. I studied this, though. I know how to do this. Watching someone just complete everything without having to erase even one number is just infuriating.

_“Alright, then I guess we’re done here.”_

I pack up my stuff a little more roughly than necessary and he watches me. I give him one last glare before stomping out. It’s only a few minutes later that I remember I left my half-empty mocha in the shop. Good thing he paid for it.

The sky is bordering on darkness when I leave and I hasten my steps. I hate that it gets darker earlier in the winter. I miss the sun. I touch the band on my wrist. I wonder if he thinks so, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey I made a new fanfic after just posting the last one. I've been thinking about a mute Lance for a really long time and I'm finally indulging myself. Also soulmark AUs give me life. There are a lot of angsty/fluffy times ahead. A lot of angst. Eventually fluff. I'm sorry in advance. I just can't help the angst.
> 
> Chapter 2 in progress!


	2. Baby Steps

Sundays are the only day during the week I can wake up late knowing I’m responsibility-free. I also don’t forget to check my soulmark because I’ve gotten an adequate amount of sleep.

_I swear I don’t understand how apologies work._

That’s not the first time he’s thought something like that. Every once in a while he worries about fixing a relationship, but it doesn’t look like it’s working out so well. Still, I know he’ll find a way. Besides, if someone isn’t willing to listen to his apology, then they don’t deserve to stick around.

I wander into the kitchen and search the fridge for something that requires little to no preparation. I check the expiration date on a carton of milk and it looks fine. I smell it just in case. I can’t count the number of times I’ve wasted cereal because the expiration date was bogus. I check the pantry for a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and lo-and-behold my afternoon is going swimmingly.

I go to take a seat on the couch and resolve to get some Netflix time in when I notice our new roommate is already occupying one side. For the last week I figured things would get better between us, but it’s been borderline radio silence on their end. I catch bits of conversations with Hunk that don’t amount to more than one-word sentences, but with me it’s nothing.

I guess it doesn’t help that I can’t actually talk to them. I doubt they’d appreciate me shoving my phone in their face whenever I wanna say something. 

I chew in silence and it’s deafening. They don’t say a word and work on what looks like an essay. I try to peek at the title, but I’m stopped by the slam of the laptop closing shut. 

“Can I help you?” they ask. I think it’s supposed to sound intimidating, but it comes off as if it took courage to say it.

I shake my head no and they eye me warily before opening the laptop back up. They don’t keep typing, though. I see gears turning in their head and they face me again.

“Sorry. I just don’t like people reading my writing. It’s not my best skill,” they confess.

I can’t help but snort. Here I am thinking they’re angry about me existing in this space, but instead they’re just self-conscious about their writing skills.

They narrow their eyes a bit, but when I keep smiling, they relax. I lift myself off of the couch to slip my phone out of my back pocket. 

_“Oh man. Well talking isn’t my best skill so I guess we’re even.”_

They laugh a little at that. “I think I’m beating you out on that one too.”

_“Wow. I can finally beat someone in a talking contest? This is the best day of my life.”_

They roll their eyes. I set up Netflix on my own laptop and plug my headphones in for Pidge’s sake. I feel weird for starting to talk to them and then ending the conversation. I’ve come this far. Might as well take advantage of my resources.

When they first moved in, we all exchanged numbers in case anyone got locked out or needed something. I never thought I’d use it anytime soon, but if we’re both gonna be busy doing our own thing, maybe it’s better to use a form of communication that doesn’t involve unnecessary interruption when we don’t want it.

I tuck into my corner of the couch and put on a comedy Hunk recommended to me. Once I’m comfy, I text Pidge.

**Me: Okay, so what are you actually good at?**

They turn to me with a questioning look. I think they’re wondering why I’m texting them while they’re right there, but then they seem to remember why and text back.

**Pidge: Math and computers probably.**

**Me: Probably?**

**Pidge: Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an understatement.**  
**Pidge: I may or may not be a genius.**

**Me: The good kind or the evil kind?**

They look over and grin.

**Pidge: The evil kind.**

I shake my head and smile at them. It’s felt weird here since they moved in and I’ve never quite felt comfortable ‘cause I felt like I did something to offend them. I even thought for a second that they were avoiding me ‘cause of the “language” barrier. Good thing I was wrong.

I don’t think I can attest to my mental state in a month or two from now, but I don’t think we’ll be kicking them out anytime soon. Just gotta take baby steps.

  


* * *

  


After a little while I stop paying attention to whatever TV show I let run and instead check my e-mail. There’s one from Club Voltron that I’ve been waiting for. I sit up a bit. It’s gotta be about my work schedule.

I know it’s one of the more cliché thing someone like me would do, but I work as a tutor for ASL kids. School was a bit easier for me since I could hear, but some of the kids are deaf or at least have some kind of hearing impairment. I remember having a hard time asking teachers for help ‘cause I felt embarrassed, but I grew out of it with a little pushing.

 _ **Club Voltron**_  
_To Me_

_Dear Lance McClain,_

_Welcome to the new semester! We’re so glad to have you back with us._

_Here is your work schedule for the following semester. This is based on the availability you sent us prior to the current term. Please notify us if anything has changed and you need you change your shifts._

_Thank you,_

_Club Voltron_

Attached is a spreadsheet with a couple of names and the timeslots they’re assigned to. I check to make sure nothing interferes with my class schedule. I don’t have to worry about how long it takes to get there and adjusting for it since it’s a ten minute walk from campus and a fifteen minute walk from the apartment.

Everything looks fine until I realize some of these are late timeslots. We don’t just work with elementary school students, but also with students all the way up to high school level. Sometimes this means holding sessions later in the day because of school activities they might have.

It’s gonna be dark by the time I leave work on Mondays and Thursdays.

Hunk stumbles through the door in the evening, tired from Robotics Club work. He’s not the president, but he might as well be with how much they’re working him. He seems to enjoy it, though. I’ve never heard him complain.

 _“Hey, man. How was it?”_ I sign.

“There’s a lot of start-up that we had to do before everyone shows up this week. We start tomorrow, but somehow nothing was done before today so everyone got called in.”

_“Speaking of tomorrow, would you be able to walk me home after work?”_

“What time?”

I check the e-mail again to make sure. _“I’d be done at 8.”_

He scratches the back of his head. Never a good sign.

“Club actually starts at 7:30 and runs until about 10. I’m part of the leadership team so I can’t dip out. Pidge has to go too since they’re new.”

I lean back into the couch and look at the ceiling. I know it’s not that far from campus. It’s not that far from the apartment even. We live in a pretty safe area and it’s not like anything’s happened recently. I just can’t shake this dumb, irrational feeling.

“You gonna be okay?”

I hold up an “OK” with my fingers. He doesn’t look convinced, but he leaves it alone. One thing I can count on Hunk for is not prying. He knows I’ll tell him eventually.

I turn off Netflix and leave my closed laptop on the coffee table. The next thing I know, it’s time for bed and I’m researching every possible scrap of information I can find on Google about how to stay safe while walking around at night.

I can do this. Nothing to it.

  


* * *

  


I would say that I’m starting to get used to waking up early, but that would be a lie especially after last night. Even though I was in bed on time, I couldn’t help opening my phone’s browser and continuing to look up the best tips for staying safe. My thoughts would keep racing unless I looked things up. It was impossible to stop.

I’m trying to keep up with Coran’s lecture, but his words are slipping away before I can write them down. I cover my mouth to yawn so many times to the point where Keith looks annoyed. Well sorry I couldn’t sleep properly last night. Chill.

In the end, I’m positive my notes aren’t gonna be adequate. I mean, there’s a textbook, but I’ve known professors that slip information into their lectures that tells you exactly what’s gonna be on the exam. A textbook can only do so much.

Lucky Keith and his stupid memory. It’s wasted on someone who prides himself on being the biggest tool in the universe.

I struggle out of my seat and I have to keep my body from giving into gravity. Ahhh. I can’t do this.

I get outside somehow and the air makes me feel a little better. 

“You okay?” I hear a voice call from behind.

The person with said voice jogs up next to me and I see it’s Keith.

_“Why do you care?”_

He frowns at the message on his phone.

“You look like you’re dying. Sorry for making sure I don’t lose my partner,” he retorts.

I don’t look at him. I don’t need him pretending to give a shit. _“Not like you needed my help last time.”_

“Alright then.” I hear his footsteps take a different direction. I turn around and he’s heading towards the library instead. Like he needs to be there in the first place.

At Altea, my immediate reaction upon reaching the counter is to collapse on it. Allura chuckles and taps my shoulder. “You need an extra shot?”

I consider it, but decline. I don’t wanna overcorrect here. The students probably won’t appreciate a tutor that seems high off his mind.

Shiro is at the bar today and calls out my name. I grab my drink and turn to leave. I’m almost out of earshot when he says, “Wait a second.”

I return to him and raise an eyebrow. _“Is this about your brother?”_ I sign.

_“You guys doing okay? I heard about the whole partner thing.”_

_“Oh yeah.”_ I roll my eyes. _“Things are going great.”_

He sighs. _“Just...don’t kill each other. ALright?”_

I don’t make promises about the well-being of my targets. That would ruin the entire operation.

It takes about half an hour for the caffeine to kick in, but the world is so much less foggy when it does. 

With my brain working properly, I think about Shiro and his annoyance of a brother. Shiro said Keith’s not usually rude like that, but nothing he’s said or done in the past week has been anything else but obnoxious. He’s too stubborn to bow down and apologize for his bullshit. His earlier attempts don’t count. They lacked sincerity.

On the other hand, Shiro goes out of his way to be nice to everyone. I’ve seen someone throw coffee at him and even then he smiled his way through it and didn’t say a bad word about her later. I don’t know if it’s because he lets things go easily or he’s a robot with permanent politeness settings, but that’s the way he is.

Maybe that’s how they get along. Shiro plays the part of the nice, responsible older brother while Keith is the outdated emo kid who doesn’t know how to control his mouth.

I couldn’t handle him 24/7 like Shiro does. Never. All I can do to salvage my situation is to spend my time bickering with him until I never have to see him again. Well, maybe that’s asking too much. I’ll probably see him again, but I won’t talk to him again. Yeah.

  


* * *

  


For the life of me I do not understand why someone would take time out of their lives to fuck with one student. I didn’t even do anything to this guy. Nothing. Nada. He’s just decided to have a personal vendetta against me. How do I even complain? He calls on me too much in class? I’m sure that would go over well with the counselor.

“McClain,” Zarkon calls. “Name the four major reasons that World War I occurred.”

Oh crap. I studied this. I know I did. It’s somewhere in here. Coffee can only do so much to combat the fog. Why did I have to stay up ‘til 2 AM last night?

“Well?” he taunts, a smug grin on his face.

I hunch my shoulders and pout while turning away from him. He hums in disapproval. “Seems like you’ve run out of right answers, haven’t you?”

I lean back as far as I can. Jesus this guy is a prick. I don’t think it’s even about me using the whiteboard anymore. I just happen to be his chosen target. If I could drop this class, I would, but I need to graduate on time and I don’t have enough credits to stay full-time if I drop.

He doesn’t call on me for the rest of the class which is a godsend, but he sends looks my way every once in a while. There’s an evil gleam in his eyes. I bet he enjoys torturing puppies. Definitely. One hundred percent.

  


* * *

  


The walk to work isn’t so bad. A lot of students live in the apartments nearby, so I don’t have to worry about being alone. Plus, it’s still light out. No problems there.

I enter the Club Voltron building and check in with the receptionist. She’s an older woman with crinkles around her eyes and laugh lines around her mouth. Despite any wrinkles, she is the definition of aging well.

“Welcome back, my dear,” Linda greets.

 _“Miss me while I was gone?”_ I sign, a smirk forming on my lips.

She chuckles. She’s always been one to humor me. I know she doesn’t think I’m actually flirting with her. She doesn’t feel disgusted by me for doing it either. If I’m crossing a line, she’ll tell me. She’s kinda like a tía that isn’t actually related to you.

“Always do,” she replies. “Excited to be working with high school students this year?”

_“Honestly? I’m gonna miss the kids, but I dunno. This could be interesting.”_

She types some information into her computer and hands me a nametag. “Alright, you’re set to go in. You’ll be at table 3 today. You have one student scheduled, but there’s always drop-ins throughout the night.”

 _“Good to know.”_ I shoot her some finger guns. She shoots back. _“Good to see you, linda.”_

The day is a whirlwind of students flying through the doors and flying right out. The majority only have slight hearing impairments while others are entirely deaf. I can tell when they’ve been here before ‘cause the ones who haven’t light up significantly when you first start signing to them. The others do too, but they’re used to it at this point.

Two hours into my shift my scheduled appointment comes in. He’s a tall dark-skinned kid with eyes darting around, looking for the table they told him to find. When he spots me, he drags his feet and drops into the seat opposite me.

_“Hey there,” I sign. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lance.”_

He nods, the medium-length dreads on the top half of his head bobbing with the motion. It’s looking like it’s his first time. I remember what it was like when I first met teachers who wanted me to introduce myself. I didn’t want to try. The only way they got me to communicate at all was if they started a conversation about something I liked.

_“Were you a space kid or a dinosaur kid?”_

He looks at me like I just asked him if he believes in cryptids, but then his face softens.

 _“Space,”_ he signs.

_“Oh awesome! I used to want to be an astronaut when I was a kid.”_

_“Me too.”_

He doesn’t try to continue with the topic, but it’s more words than none at all. _“What’re you here for today?”_

_“English.”_

_“Oh perfect. All I do is sign or write, so I should be able to help you out. What are you working on right now?”_

He unzips his backpack and pulls out a copy of his assigned reading. _“Aww man I love The Road. Cormac McCarthy is fantastic in his use of symbolism.”_

He also hands me a worksheet with questions about the book. It only covers a few chapters, but I can see why he needs help. Some of them are basic reading comprehension, but others are based on personal analysis. There’s never quite a wrong answer for these, but some teachers are more strict than others in terms of interpretation.

 _“Which one’s the hardest? We’ll start from there and work our way down,”_ I suggest. I’ve always found that kids who work from the easy ones up to the hard ones lose all their energy. By the time they get to the tough ones they give up. Working the opposite way is more effective in my experience.

He points to a question about what the sky symbolizes.

_“Well, describe the sky to me. What do the characters say about it?”_

He shrugs.

_“Come on. I know there’s more going on in that head of yours. You already answered the reading comprehension questions on your own.”_

He takes the worksheet and writes something down in the blank space where the answer should go.

_“‘The nonexistence of God.’ Alright, why?”_

He writes something after. _“People look up to it and instead of a blue sky leading to the heavens, they see darkness like there’s nothing up there.”_

 _“See! I knew it!”_ I hold up my hand for a high-five and he hesitates. Ultimately, though, he meets me. We work on the next questions and he doesn’t really have a hard time with them. He’s just a little self-conscious.

At the end of our session, I feel like I actually accomplished something. He’s still stoic, but there’s a light in his eyes that he can’t hide. That’s what I come here for. Someone needs to care about what these kids have to say ‘cause otherwise we miss out on people like…

He’s turned around to leave and I tap his shoulder before he can. _“What’s your name?”_ I ask when he faces me.

He quirks his mouth to the side a bit. _“Kinkade.”_

_“Well, Kinkade, hope to see you next week.”_

He nods and goes on his way.

The next hour is slow, but not slow enough. It’s nighttime and I have to make the trek home. It’s not far. I know that. I’ll be fine. No one’s gonna come after me.

I’m halfway there. I’m doing good. Why was I worried in the first place?

It’s then I hear footsteps behind me and they’re gaining faster than I’d like. I try walking faster myself, but it doesn’t stop them. I can’t believe I’m actually gonna get mugged out here.

“Lance!”

I stop and turn around to find Mullet-Head making his way towards me.

“Why were you running?”

I reach for my phone. _“Because I thought someone was chasing me???”_ I throw my arms up in exasperation.

“Well, no one’s chasing you anywhere.”

_“Wait, what makes you think I want to talk to you?”_

“Oh yeah. I forgot you’re still acting like a three-year-old. Got it.”

He starts walking down the sidewalk without me and I unconsciously grab his arm before he can get more than five feet away from me.

“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” He rips his arm from my grasp and rubs at the area I grabbed.

 _“Nothing’s my problem,”_ I type. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes.

I sigh. _“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I don’t like walking around at night without Hunk. It gets boring.”_

His stance and face soften. I think I’m hallucinating. “You think you won’t be bored if I walk with you?”

_“I’d spend it tearing your life apart, so maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.”_

I can’t believe what I’m saying. I don’t wanna walk home with him. He’ll know where I live. I need to be on top of this whole ruining his life thing and him knowing where I live before I find out where he does is unacceptable.

I look away from him towards the alleyway a block down. A dark figure stands there, unmoving. I have to walk that way. Alone. At night. Alright. That’s it.

_“Walk me home.”_

He scoffs. “Is that supposed to be a request or a demand?”

_“Will you stop being an asshole for two seconds?”_

“Will you?”

I click my phone shut, the glow replaced by the dim light of the street lamps above. I glance between him and the shadowy figure and decide. I nod my head.

“Lead the way then.” He gestures to the sidewalk and I hesitate. I can back out now. I can make it out to be a joke and walk on my own. I can face my bullshit and I won’t have to look weak in front of this guy.

I trudge forward, keeping to the side furthest away from the alley. He keeps step beside me. It’s quiet the entire time, neither of us daring to break the silence. Me because I’m focusing on the sounds around us in case someone or something shows up, and him because he probably doesn’t wanna give me blackmail fuel.

It’s not long before we approach the front entrance of my apartment building, the sconces on each side of the door creating a beacon of light; the sign that assures me I can stop having mini heart attacks. I stop Keith with a hand to his chest.

_“I’ll be fine from here.”_

“You sure?”

_“Have you met me?”_

“Go.”

I do so and not ‘cause he told me to. I was already going. I get to the doorstep and chance a look behind me. My eyes connect with his across the lawn between us. He’s just waiting. I enter the building and leave him behind. No way did he just wait for me to get inside.

  


* * *

  


**Mullet-Head: so we need to meet to work on our next assignment.**  
**Mullet-Head: actually we need to start meeting twice a week at this rate.**

**Me: Are you calling me slow?**

**Mullet-Head: not currently, but we have an assignment for every class and i don’t think it makes sense for me to do all of them by myself.**

**Me: 1) Rude and 2) fine.**  
**Me: What days do you have in mind?**

**Mullet-Head: do wed and fri work?**

**Me: Wednesday does. Friday doesn’t. Only reason I had time last week was ‘cause I have the same professor for both of my T/F classes and he decided he wasn’t feeling up to teaching.**

**Mullet-Head: that’s...weird?**

**Me: Yup.**

**Me: I can do Wednesday and Saturday afternoons.**

**Mullet-Head: you don’t have fun weekend plans?**  
**Mullet-Head: thought you’d be cooler than that.**

**Me: I’ll have you know I choose not to go. I could if I wanted to.**

**Mullet-Head: whatever you say.**  
**Mullet-Head: tomorrow and saturday it is.**

**Me: Cool.**

**Mullet-Head: cool.**

For a split-second I consider thanking him for yesterday, but that would be idiotic. The favor wasn’t all that huge and I won’t need him next time. I got halfway there in the first place and he wasn’t helping me then. What’s another half?

I put away my phone and prepare myself for both work and Keith tomorrow. I take one last look at the soulmark on my arm before I close my eyes.

_I’m not gonna let you feel unsafe when I can help._

I smile as I succumb to sleep.

  


* * *

  


“So why were you out that late?” Keith asks, breaking my concentration.

I start typing with my left hand while trying to write with my right hand.

_“I live a double life of secrecy and danger.”_

“I’m sure you do.” He leans back in his chair and I can feel him watching me. He finished early. Again. The problem is that I can’t be annoyed by these circumstances to a certain point. Having the smart kid as your partner is hitting the jackpot. I just wish he didn’t make me feel like a fucking idiot when I know I’m not.

“But seriously, why?”

I look up and he seems earnest. Seems being the key word here.

_“I work. It ends later than it used to so it’s late when I get out.”_

“Oh.” He pauses. “Where do you work?”

I click my tongue and type without looking at my phone. _“Are yoi actuakky trying to get ti know me right noq?”_

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. Man does he need a haircut. The split ends are driving me insane. “I’m stuck with you for a whole semester and I walked you home. You might as well explain to me why you asked me to do that.”

I type, _“I don’t have to explain shit”_ before deleting it. I don’t owe him shit, but he’s kinda right. I guess. Somehow. I’ll make this count as a “thank you” or whatever.

 _“I prefer not to walk around in the dark,”_ I end up writing.

He nods and crosses his arms. “Fair enough.”

We work in relative silence and he points out any mistake I’m making, which are less frequent than last time. I hate that he feels confident enough to correct me, but honestly it’s helping me learn. I’d never tell him that. He’d end up having a bigger ego than he currently has. Don’t need that.

As I’m packing up, he doesn’t move to leave. “Why don’t your friends walk you home?”

_“My friends have club at the same time work ends. I don’t have a choice.”_

“And you have to do that every Monday?”

_“I only have to work late on Mondays and Thursdays, so pretty much, yeah.”_

He thinks for a second, focusing on the white lion design on the coffee cups in front of him. I regret staying to talk and try to remove myself from the premises. It’s that which prompts him to speak.

“I can walk you home.”

I whirl around and slam my hands on the back of the chair. I don’t even text him. What is there to say to something weird like that? Sure, you can _totally_ take me home from work. We’re the bestest of friends now. It’s what partners do for each other. Fucking no.

“Or not?” He plays with his fingerless gloves. “I just figured it’d be better than walking alone.”

I want to scoff, click my tongue, anything, but nothing comes out but pure confusion. Where was the guy from last week who got in my face over a bit of spilled coffee? I can’t believe in the least that Shiro could be right about him having any semblance of politeness. There’s always a catch with favors.

I choose to ignore the question and exit the shop. I’m not getting into this with him. I can do this on my own.

  


* * *

  


I can’t do this on my own.

I get to the halfway point again and I spot the figure in the alleyway in the same position, waiting for its moment to pounce. It feels like it’s watching for me specifically. God this is stupid. I should just move past it. Nothing happened yesterday. I’ll be fine.

But I can’t.

I start heading back to the club. Maybe I can stay out front until Hunk or Pidge can come get me. There won’t be any lights besides the street lamps, but at least I’ll feel some sort of familiarity. That’s better than braving the walk by a longshot.

I’m almost there when I see the face I’d rather avoid at all costs. 

“Is it just me, or is your apartment the other way?” Keith asks, smirking a bit.

I’m so glad he can laugh at this ‘cause I sure as hell can’t. The smirk just makes me even more frustrated than I already am.

_“I’m going back to where I work. I’m just gonna wait there until my friends are done.”_

“Come on.” He pushes past me in the direction of the apartment. In the direction of the thing in the alley.

I jog up to him and follow. _“I’m not letting you walk me home.”_

“I’m not walking you home. I just happen to be going in this direction.”

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that gets my feet moving.

We walk in silence again. Very few people pass us by, making it so Keith has to walk behind me a couple times. Otherwise it’s just us among the quiet. We say nothing at all until we say goodbyes when we reach the lawn.

I get to the door and he’s watching me yet again. I don’t know why I don’t think it’s creepy. It should be creepy. Then again, it’s not like he stalked me here. I asked him. Why did I even ask him?

I get inside and collapse on the couch. It’s only a little while before I need to go to sleep, but I have some time. I play around on Netflix and scroll through Twitter before getting tired of all the fighting. Seriously. Do people have nothing better to do than argue with strangers on the Internet?

I open up my text conversation with Keith without thinking about it. I stare at the lines of text with seemingly no replies and something compels me. Maybe it’s the voice of my mamá telling me to be good. Maybe it’s Hunk telling me to at least try to act like an adult. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I text Keith.

**Me: Well, I think this is the only time you haven’t managed to completely suck.**

**Mullet-Head: i’ll take that as a compliment.**

**Me: Since you get so few.**

**Mullet-Head: whatever gets you through the night.**

**Me: Just means that if you happen to be walking in the same direction again…**  
**Me: I’ll tolerate you walking near me.**

**Mullet-Head: did you just say thank you?**

**Me: Do you know how to read?**

**Mullet-Head: you’re welcome.**

I plug my phone into the charger and set it to “Do Not Disturb” mode. If I continue that conversation, he might take something else I say and twist it around. I wasn’t saying “thank you”. All I was saying is he isn’t completely irritating. Not all the time, anyways.

Falling asleep isn’t as hard as it was on Sunday. I don’t have to worry about walking alone after all.

  


* * *

  


The assignment this time isn’t as complicated as usual, so we both finish around the same time. We each get the same answers, so now we have to decide who gets to turn it in.

“We’ll just turn in mine like usual,” Keith says like it makes perfect sense.

 _“Yeah, but we always do that,”_ I argue. _“What’s the difference if we turn mine in?”_

“And what’s the difference if we turn in mine?”

I place my elbow on the table, put my hand to my forehead, and snort. _“Just let me have this one.”_

“Not until you tell me why.”

I turn my attention to where Shiro is working the cashier. He keeps glancing over at us. He probably wants to intervene, but the steady flow of customers and his sense of responsibility won’t let him. _“Because we always turn in yours.”_

“You’re just cycling through the same argument over and over again. Besides,” he lifts up my paper for me to see, “I can’t read this at all.”

I snatch it back and put it in my bag away from his reach. _“Not all of us can have perfect handwriting.”_

“There’s a compliment in there. Am I getting on your good side, McClain?” He smirks.

As I go to tell him what a prick he is, I get an alert from a group chat.

**Group Chat: burninglove, treehacker, sharpshooter**

**Group Name Changed to “Taco Night”**

**burninglove: i now present to you: taco night!**  
**burninglove: gotta start off the semester right.**  
**burninglove: personally i’m already dying so...tacos!**

 **sharpshooter: Hunk.**  
**sharpshooter: My love.**  
**sharpshooter: My life.**

**treehacker: When is it?**

**burninglove: tonight.**  
**burninglove: i already bought everything so you don’t have to worry.**

 **sharpshooter: Look, I’m not saying Hunk’s tacos are better than my mamá’s, but they’re damn close.**  
**sharpshooter: You have to be there.**

**treehacker: I don’t think I have anything else to do?**

**sharpshooter: Correction: you have nothing to do except eat tacos with your roommates.**  
**sharpshooter: That’s an order.**

**treehacker: Haha. Guess I’ll be there then.**

**burninglove: great!**  
**burninglove: see you guys soon!**

I smile at my phone. Taco Night is literally the best part of starting the semester. I can’t believe I forgot about it. Thank you Hunk for remembering the good things in life. No one deserves a hero such as you.

“What are you smiling about?” Keith asks.

_“Just made some fun weekend plans like I said I could. Gotta go.”_

He waves me off. “Go then.”

_“I was already going!”_

  


* * *

  


I plug my phone up to speakers and it spews Spanish lyrics throughout the apartment, my hips already swaying to the beat. They won’t stop until it turns off. After cracking open a few Dos Equis and adding the limes, Taco Night has officially begun.

The kitchen is a flurry of activity. Hunk may be a genius, but he only has so many limbs to work with. I help out to make up for it. We have to shoo Pidge out when we start because it’s their first time. Trying to work in the kitchen during Taco Night is an experience in itself.

 _“Put the taco shells in,”_ Hunk signs at me between pulling bags of various taco toppings.

_“On it.”_

I throw them in the oven and keep moving before he has to tell me what to do next. While he works on cooking the meat, I set up a couple of cutting boards and get to chopping. Tomatoes, shallots, lettuce, avocados, etc. mix together to sweeten up the room with their freshness.

I watch Hunk as he spices the meat up, not even measuring anything out. It’s always the way he’s done things. He believes measuring limits the possibilities you can discover while cooking. Something about not all spices working together the same way. I honestly don’t care about the reasoning. All I care about is the seasoning.

Pidge pokes their head in just as the taco shells are ready to go. Their eyes are a bit wider than I usually see them. No doubt we look like crazy people. It’s just how we roll.

I sign to Hunk that they’re in the archway and he talks to them for me. “Mind grabbing some of the chopped veggies and putting them on the table?”

“Yeah, of course,” they say, grabbing the bowls of tomatoes, guacamole, lettuce, and shallots.

I take the rest of the bowls out which contain salsa, sour cream, a Mexican cheese blend (anyone who picks otherwise is a heretic), and beans.

When everything is set, Hunk comes out carrying two large plates, one topped with a pile of ground beef and the other with stacked taco shells. Pidge’s and my own mouth are watering at the sight and the smell. God I missed this. Why don’t we do this every weekend?

The table is quiet besides the sound of munching and spoons scraping against the bottoms of bowls for toppings. I can’t say everything is comfortably silent just yet, but we’re getting there. At least the music makes up for it a little. 

After all is said and done, Pidge and I offer to clean up while Hunk goes to bed. He’s done way too much work today for me to allow him to clean. He knows I’d refuse to let him do it anyways.

I wash while Pidge dries and I text them between dishes. They leave their phone screen open so they don’t have to pick it up with wet hands every time they want to read the messages.

_“Soooooo? How was your first Taco Night?”_

“Honestly?” they start. “That might’ve been the best experience of my life.”

_“I know. Hunk’s cooking is a godsend.”_

“How long have you guys been doing it?”

 _“Since our freshman year. We lived in the dorms so there wasn’t a lot of room in the shared kitchen to do it, but we managed.”_ I chuckle as I write the next part. _“Imagine trying to fend off all the other starving college students, though.”_

They laugh, rinsing off our last plate.

Before I turn off the living room lights, I look to Pidge who’s stopped at their door. They wave and give me an appreciative smile. “Good night.”

 _“Good night,”_ I sign. I’m sure they gets the message.

I can’t help but rub my soulmark as I fall asleep. Someday he’ll get to be a part of our Taco Nights. I’ll throw on Cuban party music and we’ll dance until he tires out. I can sneak kisses between every dish we wash and touches at every passing. I’ll be hopelessly gone and he’ll be blissfully unaware as to what effect he has on me.

 _Meet me soon, okay?_ I mouth. I like to think that’s what’ll be on his arm tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally didn't start writing this immediately after posting the first chapter. Nope. Can't prove it.
> 
> Thank you so freaking much for all of the kudos, bookmarks, and comments you guys have given me. I did not at all expect this kind of reaction. You've all been so sweet. It makes me even more motivated to write this story. Now on to chapter 3!
> 
>  **Note:** If you haven't seen season 7 and don't know who Kinkade is, DO NOT LOOK HIM UP. I don't put any spoilers in this fic, but looking him up would spoil story points.


	3. Support Class

I have zero energy ‘cause of last night and I’ve subscribed to laying on our floor for the rest of the day. I was making carpet angels, but I’m starting to get concerned about rug burn.

Pidge has no such plans, so instead they’re working on something on their computer. From what I saw on the screen, it didn’t look like homework nor did it look entirely legal. I’m not asking, though. Plausible deniability is my friend.

 _“If you could be any animal, what would you be and why?”_ I text them.

“A lioness,” they say without hesitation. “I may be NB, but I’m biologically a girl. Female lions are the ones who hunt prey and rip it apart. They are the truly terrifying ones.”

_“Have I ever told you that you also terrify me?”_

They grin. “That means I’m doing something right.”

A pinging noise sounds from their computer and their brow furrows. They press a key and it sounds again. They pound into the key and progressively the aggression in their actions bleeds into their crescendo of yelling. “God fucking dammit you stupid ass fucking machine why can’t you ever fucking work!?”

I blink hard. I’ve never heard them make a sound louder than what Hunk would consider “inside voice”. I sit up and slide away from the couch without making any sudden movements.

 _“You doing okay there?”_ I dare to ask.

“Fuck! My laptop overheated because it’s an absolute piece of shit.” They take off their glasses and rub the heels of their palms into their eyes. “The fans do this every six months and I can’t afford to buy or build a new laptop right now.”

_“Can I help?”_

They sigh and drop their laptop onto the coffee table a little higher up than is probably safe. “I just need to go get some compressed air, but I have no idea where to go. I also don’t have data right now so I can’t use Maps.”

There’s an easy solution to all of this. I don’t know why they’re not already asking.

 _“I know where pretty much everything is around here. I’ll take you,”_ I offer.

They don’t even stop to consider it for a second before they gather their wallet and keys and wait at the door.

“You coming?”

I nod in awe and grab my own things. We get all the way downstairs and when I step outside for a second, I run back in to get my coat. No way am I freezing to death over a little compressed air. The walk isn’t that short.

Unfortunately for us, we have to go through several stores to realize that we need a place specializing in tech. The closest place is a Best Buy about a 30 minute walk away.

 _“You up for a little trek?”_ I ask them. They’re looking a bit worn out, but they trudge on ahead anyways.

I run up next to them and snort. _“You know I have to lead the way, right?”_

They nod their head upward and push their hands further into their coat pockets.

I’m remembering how much I hate Best Buy. Like, I get that their inventory can be huge and that they need space for it, but god is it a mess to find anything. It’s even worse ‘cause some of the things you’d think are in a certain section are actually in a seemingly unrelated section on the other side of the store.

We check the computer area first, but nothing is what they’re looking for. We check each aisle too many times to count before giving up.

“I’m not doing this,” Pidge complains. “We’re finding someone.”

We search the store for an employee and stumble upon one of the most gorgeous girls I’ve ever seen besides Allura. Her hair runs in golden ponytails down to her waist, her hair parted in the middle and pulled back making a half-up half-down style. Her eyes are this insane shade of purple that is in no way natural. Whatever makes them that way, it makes her look otherworldly.

I put on my flirting face complete with a smirk and bow before her, eyes never leaving hers. She looks to Pidge and they shrug.

“We’re looking for compressed air?” they ask. Well, more like squeak. They better not be getting a cold. They’re getting quarantined if they are.

The girl blinks a few times before coming back to Earth. “Of course! Right this way!”

Her walking has a sort of strut to it, but more of the “get out of my way” kind than the “I’m a supermodel” kind. It’s intimidating, but in a good way. Can’t imagine what she’s like outside of here. Maybe she’s wild. I dig wild.

I’d do something about it if I didn’t notice her glancing back at Pidge way too many times for it to be coincidence. Pidge stares back, a light blush forming on their cheeks.

Oh yes.

She leads us to an aisle we were just in. Pidge goes to tell her so when the girl plucks a can of compressed air off the shelf. I look at Pidge incredulously. “How did we miss it!” they cry.

The girl giggles and Pidge takes the can, refusing to meet her eyes. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Need anything else?”

 _“Get her number,”_ I text.

Pidge checks their phone when it lights up. They glare at me before turning back to the girl. “No. I think we found everything.”

The girl tells us to let her know if we need anything else and wanders off to find another customer. I barely catch her nametag before she’s gone.

_“So are you gonna go get Romelle’s number or am I?”_

Pidge’s blush deepens and they elbow me in the stomach. It’s not that serious but man does that hurt.

“I’m not getting her number and neither are you,” they grumble.

_“Au contraire, mon Pidgeon.”_

I run off in the direction I think Romelle went with Pidge raging behind me. I know they might kill me, but no way am I missing my opportunity to play matchmaker. I want to have the best speech at their wedding after all.

I write up my message before I find Romelle.

“Oh, do you guys need help again?” she asks, peeking over my shoulder at a panting Pidge.

I put up my phone and grin. _“For the love of god tell my friend you think they’re cute before they explode.”_

Romelle immediately reddens and sputters. “I can’t just say that!”

Pidge drags me to the cashier without waving goodbye to her. I try to dig in my feet to stop them, but it’s too late. They pay and we’re on our way back to the apartment.

“I cannot believe you harassed her like that,” Pidge chides.

 _“You didn’t even see what I wrote.”_ I pout. _“Besides, I definitely didn’t harass her. I just tried to nudge her in the right direction, that’s all.”_

“I don’t need your help. I have a soulmate.”

_“Who said anything about me helping you?”_

She stops and gapes at the ground. Busted.

 _“So now that we’re talking about soulmates, have you met yours?”_ I ask. For some people it’s way too personal, but I know that I’d gush about my soulmate if I had them. I like sharing the happy things.

They continue walking and tighten their scarf around their neck. When a gust of wind hits particularly hard, I adjust my jacket as well.

“I haven’t met them, but I don’t want to go out of my way to find them.”

Blasphemy. _“Why not?”_

“They’re my soulmate, right? They’ll come along when it makes sense. I don’t wanna force things in case…” they trail off.

 _“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,”_ I offer. I also get that soulmates aren’t that simple for everyone.

“It’s just...what if they don’t like that I’m ace?”

I think that through. Honestly it’s never occured to me that my soulmate wouldn’t like me for something I couldn’t control. They’re my soulmate. They’re supposed to accept the parts of me that won’t ever change.

_“I’m not an expert, but I don’t think everyone has a problem with that. Why wouldn’t your soulmate be accepting of it?”_

A soft smile flows onto their lips and their shoulders relax. “I hope you’re right.”

_“But seriously though you should’ve gotten her number. She wouldn’t stop eyeing you the entire time and I was standing right there.”_

They punch me in the shoulder and I stumble in mock pain.

That’s a scary thing to think about. I know there are some things I don’t like about myself, so how would it be possible for someone else to love me in my entirety? Unrequited soulmates exist. I don’t want Pidge to be right, but sometimes reality doesn’t work the way we want it to.

I rub the band over my soulmark and try not to think about it.

  


* * *

  


“Alright, class,” Coran says. “I’m handing out the instructions for your research essay that’s due in three weeks. I wouldn’t wait until the last minute if I were you. You’ll need ample time to complete it and it’s worth a hefty chunk of your grade. Better get started!”

Keith and I look over the instructions.

_“At least we get to learn about space physics.”_

Keith nods in agreement, a far-off look in his eyes. “I’ve always liked studying stars.”

_“Space kid?”_

“Space kid.”

I smile at the image of a younger Keith playing with an indoor planetarium before wiping it from my brain completely. I don’t need to smile about Keith being a happy child. That’s not acceptable.

I go to text him something else when messages start piling in nonstop. It’s Pidge.

 **Pidgeon: Holy shit.**  
**Pidgeon: I met them.**  
**Pidgeon: I met my soulmate.**

 **Me: WHat????**  
**Me: WHEN???**  
**Me: WHeRe?????**

**Pidgeon: Remember the girl from yesterday?**

**Me: I fucking knew you should’ve gotten her number.**

**Pidgeon: Look, it was a lucky guess.**  
**Pidgeon: BUT STILL**  
**Pidgeon: She’s so pretty.**

 **Me: Aww.**  
**Me: How’d you figure it out?**

 **Pidgeon: The words, “I can’t just do that!” showed up on my wrist and I figured it has to be her.**  
**Pidgeon: I have to go see her again.**

**Me: Uh. Duh.**

**Pidgeon: Ahhhhh. What if she doesn’t like me?**

**Me: Trust me. She likes you.**

“What’s going on?” Keith asks.

I hold up a finger and keep responding to Pidge.

**Pidgeon: Will you go with me?**

**Me: Am I hot?**

**Pidgeon: So the answer is no?**

**Me: I’ve literally known you for less than three weeks and you’re already hitting me where it hurts.**  
**Me: Of course I’m going with you.**

**Pidgeon: I can’t believe you were actually right.**

**Me: That’s what I’m good for.**

**Pidgeon: Alright, well I’m in class and the professor is glaring at me.  
**Pidgeon: We can talk about when we’ll go later.****

****

**Me: For sure. Keep me posted.**

I put my phone away and my heart feels extra warm. A grin is stretching across my face and it hurts and I don’t care ‘cause someone I know found their _soulmate_. 

Keith pokes my shoulder and even that doesn’t kill my mood.

_“Keith, my man, coffee is on me today.”_

He narrows his eyes. “Is that an invitation to throw coffee on you?”

_“No? I’ll explain on the way.”_

When we’re finally in the quad and making our way to Altea, I spill everything.

_“So my friend just met their soulmate yesterday.”_

Keith’s face falls, but not soon after he’s back to his stoic look. “That’s cool.”

_“Cool??? It’s unbelievable! I’ve never met someone’s soulmate before besides my parents, but I don’t think they count.”_

Keith hums but doesn’t respond. I don’t know why I prod him, but I do.

 _“Do you wear the gloves to cover your soulmark?”_ I ask, glancing between them and his face.

He pulls down the sleeves of his coat to cover his wrists more than they already are. “Yeah.”

I tilt my head. Oh god I should not be asking him this. It sounds like I’m trying to get to know him and really I should be doing anything but. I’m just...curious. Hunk and I talked about ours before, but I’ve never gotten to see other people’s. I haven’t even seen Pidge’s yet.

Keith sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t really believe in soulmates anyways.”

I gape. What? How? Soulmates are the best thing ever. How could you not, or at least not want to, believe that there’s someone out there who’s absolutely perfect for you?

He takes one look at my face and elaborates. “Why do I need to be told who to love? That’s obligation. Not love.”

That’s...not a bad point, but I won’t let him bring me down. _“You would’ve gotten along with my friend up until today. They weren’t sure that soulmates were for them either.”_

“Well, they aren’t for me.”

I don’t want to continue this line of questioning. Well I do, but he’s starting to look sick. We bicker, but there’s no fire behind his words right now. I buy him his chai and he goes off to wherever he roams.

I unwrap my band and assure myself that my soulmate matters. I know they do. I know I’ll love them for real despite the universe telling me I’m supposed to.

_I wonder what it’s like to be with someone like that._

Someday I’ll show you. I promise.

  


* * *

  


_“Pidge found their soulmate?!”_ Hunk signs at me in gestures so wide I almost miss what he’s saying. 

_“Right? We met her at the Best Buy the other day.”_ I smirk. _“Pidge called her pretty.”_

Hunk squeals. _“We’ve gotta do something about this. I say we celebrate. Aww man but I’m busy until this weekend. How about we do something this weekend?”_

_“Let’s do it.”_

My cheeks and jaw are killing me. God this excitement is infectious.

  


* * *

  


_“Hey, man,”_ I sign to Kinkade when he drops into his seat. I’m glad he came back. I was actually looking forward to working with him since the last time. 

__

He nods his head upwards in greeting and looks to the beige wall behind me. He’s super bad at making eye-contact. Goal #1: Get Kinkade to look me in the eyes at least once.

We jump right into it and we’re working through another worksheet for The Road. I skim over the chapters before we start. I may love this book, but I’m not a genius. It’s been a while.

_“So what does the man’s wife mean by ‘But I don’t dream at all’?”_

He flips his book open to the page of the woman’s speech. I almost tell him to read the passage out loud for me, but then I remember where I am.” 

His eyes scan the page with the speed of someone lucid-dreaming. He writes an answer, longer than the others, into the blank space.

_She says that “women dream of danger to those in their care and men of danger to themselves.” She doesn’t dream of danger._

I quirk my lips. He’s getting there. He just needs a little pushing. I can see why whoever sent him here wanted him to get tutoring. He’s smart, but he’s so hesitant to be that way for fear of...something?

_“I think that’s the literal way of taking it, but if you were a woman and didn’t dream of danger to those that you care about, what would that mean?”_

He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. It’s not a position of defiance or giving up; I’ve been around these kids long enough to know the difference. He’s scared to give the right answer, but it’s there. I just have to wait. He’ll get there. They always get there.

He jolts up a bit like he’s surprised he thought of an answer, but then remembers himself and deliberately slows his movements. He takes the paper back and erases what he originally wrote, blowing the shavings off the table. His handwriting turns out sloppier than before, but it doesn’t change the answer.

_She thinks she doesn’t care about anyone._

I feel a tug in my chest. I’ve read that scene a thousand times and someone writing down what she’s feeling is so bare. I don’t know if it’s exactly what McCarthy meant or if he understood what he himself was saying, but it’s powerful all the same.

 _“God I love this book,”_ I mouth. There’s movement on Kikade’s side of the table and I look up to see him keeping his eyes on mine. He doesn’t turn away for a few seconds, but instead nods in agreement. 

Goal #1: completed.

  


* * *

  


_“Have you ever read The Road?”_ I ask Keith by text.

“No. Why?”

I don’t know why I have to have this conversation with him, but it has to be with someone. Watching someone else enjoy the beauty that comes from bleak words has me on a high and Keith sure as hell isn’t gonna keep me from holding onto it for a little while longer.

_“Heresy! It’s great. I was talking about it with one of the kids I tutor and there’s this mega sad flashback about a woman who kills herself.”_

“Spoilers.”

 _“Were you actually going to read it?”_ I ask, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head no. _“ANYWAYS. The woman is talking about how women dream about the people they care about being in danger and she just says, ‘But I don’t dream at all.’ I mean, how fucking heartbreaking, right?”_

“I mean, if you wanna take it that way you can,” he responds.

I feel like stopping, but there’s no way I’m risking him walking off without me. _“How could anyone on this Earth NOT take it that way???”_

“Maybe it’s easier not to dream,” he sighs. “Sometimes it’s better not to have people to care about.”

_“Dude. She has a husband and a kid.”_

Keith hums. “Are they soulmates?”

Where is he getting with this? _“Probably?”_

“Well if they are,” He stops at my front door, “then maybe soulmates are more bogus that I thought they were.”

He walks away and I scramble to keep this conversation going. That was weird. Right? Weird. Super weird. Oh shit wait he walked me to my door when did that happen?

**Me: You’re gonna say shit like that and walk off???????**

**Mullet-Head: i told you i don’t believe in soulmates.**  
**Mullet-Head: things like that prove my point.**  
**Mullet-Head: she was probably so sure that he was the one and instead they end up miserable together.**

 **Me: It’s a book.**  
**Me: It’s not real.**

**Mullet-Head: doesn’t mean it doesn’t reflect real life.**

I type a few _“I just…”s_ and _“How could you…”s_ before I settle on what I want to say.

**Me: Why are you so sure that soulmates can’t be the real thing?**

The bubbles indicating him typing pop up and drop off and I tap my foot. It’s freezing out, but I can’t go inside without figuring this out.

The text balloon comes up again and I feel butterflies (umm what the fuck) before I read it. Then I actually do.

**Mullet-Head: goodnight, Lance.**

He’s an absolute tease. Here I am thinking I can have an actual conversation with him. Maybe, just maybe, we could’ve stopped this stupid rivalry bullshit he started and talked like normal human beings, but no. He has to go and insist that soulmates are bogus and then say goodnight like he didn’t just say some of the most emo shit known to man.

I edit his name in my contacts to “Emo Boy” and push through the front doors to escape the cold and slush of ruined snow.

  


* * *

  


**Me: So we have a predicament.**

**Emo Boy: don’t you always.**

**Me: Simmer down.**  
**Me: I’m serious.**  
**Me: We have a paper to write and I don’t think working at the coffee shop is the best idea.**

**Emo Boy: what else do you wanna do?**

**Me: Well, you’ve already stalked me home.**  
**Me: Might as well let you inside for once.**  
**Me: As a favor to you.**

**Emo Boy: i feel like i’m walking into a lion’s den.**

**Me: That’s only ‘cause of Pidge.**

**Emo Boy: ...what?**

**Me: Nothing.**  
**Me: Just.**  
**Me: We have to work late and I’d rather be in my own home than out.**

 **Emo Boy: oh.**  
**Emo Boy: right.**  
**Emo Boy: that makes sense.**

**Me: So?**

**Emo Boy: yeah. that’s fine.**  
**Emo Boy: same time as usual?**

**Me: Yeah.**

It was the only thing I could think of. I wouldn’t completely mind going to his place, but the idea of Shiro watching us in case we kill each other is not an ideal environment for working on a research paper. Besides, I’d still have to walk home in the dark. He already knows where I live at this point. Pidge and Hunk will be my backup in case I need them.

“Eyes up, McClain,” Professor Kolivan warns.

I put my phone away with a sheepish grin. He remains stoic and continues on with his explanation of the hopelessness theory of depression.

  


* * *

  


I’ve only been home for two seconds before Pidge is basically jumping on top of me.

I put my hands out in defense and close my eyes. When I open them I see they stopped just short of knocking me over.

 _“What’s going on?”_ I text them.

“We have to go see her.”

_“What? Today?”_

“Yes, today,” they state. “How am I supposed to sit around when I can tell her right now?”

I smile softly. I have no doubt I’d feel the same if my soulmate were a 30 minute walk away. Waiting wouldn’t be an option. I can’t deny going with them. I did say I’d go with them whenever they wanted to go.

 _“Maybe we should make sure she’s at work first,”_ I suggest. Someone’s gotta be the voice of reason so they don’t get their hopes up too much right now.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” The look to me and wait. I don’t know why they’re staring at me.

_“I thought we were checking?”_

“Can you?”

Oh my god I never thought I’d see the day where Pidge was scared to call a girl up on the phone. This is amazing. I take a photo for future reference and try to send it to Hunk before Pidge is standing even closer than before.

“Do you _really_ wanna send that?” they warn.

No I do not.

I delete the message, but not the picture.

“Picture, too, Lance.”

I begrudgingly ditch the photo.

“Alright! Now can you please call Best Buy for me? I’ll owe you.”

_“I mean, if I could magically get my voice box working I would, but alas I cannot.”_

They look at me in terror. “Oh my god I totally forgot. Shit.”

_“Haha. No worries. Happens all the time.”_

They look up the number themselves and dial. It only rings a couple times before a guy answers.

_“Hey this is Best Buy. My name’s Rolo, how can I help you?”_

Pidge freezes up. Rolo calls a “hello?” on the other end and I gesture wildly in the hopes that they’ll answer him before he hangs up.

“H-hi,” Pidge starts. “Does Romelle happen to be, uh, working today?”

Their voice has to be an entire octave higher I swear.

I can barely hear the voice on the other end, but from the look on Pidge’s face, it’s safe to say we’re going on an adventure today.

“Alright, thanks.” They end the call.

They’re beaming. We’ve gone from zero conversation to me helping them meet their soulmate. I can’t help grinning back. We’re ready to go and then there’s a knock at the door. Aw man did Hunk forget his keys again? He really needs to stop doing that. He’s lucky we haven’t left yet.

I open it and it’s not Hunk.

“Uh, hey,” Keith says, playing with his fingers. “Someone held the door for me downstairs and I just came up. Hope that’s okay.”

Oh crap. We have our research paper. How could I possibly forget about Keith being in my apartment today. Ugh. I can’t leave Pidge hanging, though. They’d never forgive me.

Pidge pokes their head around me to get a better look at the problem in our doorway. “Who’s this?”

_“Remember the physics partner I told you about?”_

Their mouth forms a small “o” and they push me out of the way completely. They hold out their hand and give a polite smile. “I’m Pidge. Sorry that you’re stuck with Lance.”

Keith takes it and smiles back. “There’s only so much you can do.”

I gape at the both of them. Okay. Pidge is betraying me as we speak. If this wasn’t about soulmate matters, I would take back my favor. What is with all the rude people around me? Hunk is the only one who will ever truly love me.

“You wanna go with us to Best Buy?” Pidge asks before I can get a text in. “My soulmate works there.”

“Oh. You met them on Monday, right?”

“Sunday, actually, but I found out on Monday.”

“Cool.” Keith shifts uncomfortably and throws a glance my way.

I can’t leave him in the apartment. I don’t know when Hunk’s coming back today and I don’t trust him not to mess with things. If Pidge is okay with him coming, then I guess I’ll have to deal.

_“Well? Are you coming or not?”_

He shrugs. “As long as we get to work later.”

Pidge whoops and pumps their fist and then we’re out the door. Time for a journey.

They talk along the way and they’re never short of things to complain about. Pidge is surprisingly good at asking a million questions. Keith isn’t so bad at answering them either. He’s just a little stiff as always.

It’s not long before I realize they’re talking about their own thing and I don’t really have a way to respond to any of it. I listen, but direct most of my attention to the bare branches of the trees along the walkway. 

This isn’t out of the norm. Usually I only hang out with Hunk, but I think people forget that I can’t exactly jump in, so they get involved in their own conversations and accidentally exclude me. I don’t hate people for it. It’s just something that happens. I mean, it sucks, don’t get me wrong. If I could speak up whenever I wanted to, it would be great.

“Lance, what’s with you being quiet?” Keith asks.

My focus is back to him. _“I think that comes with the territory.”_

He shakes his head. “Well, what I was saying was how I can’t believe people don’t believe in cryptids. Pidge agrees, but we don’t know about you.”

“Are you a believer, Lance?” Pidge asks in a TV show narrator’s voice.

Oh my god. He doesn’t believe in soulmates but he believes in aliens and shit. Cryptids. Whatever. Same thing pretty much. This is the kind of information I’m here for. I’m saving this up for a later date.

 _“Cryptids do not exist and we both know you’re insane,”_ I type.

“Wait, what are you guys saying?” Pidge questions. “Group text.”

I create a separate group to text both of them and retype what I told Keith.

“The only one who’s insane here is you. How could you not believe cryptids exist?” Pidge adjusts their glasses.

_“I’m just saying. Aliens I can believe. Cryptids? Why?”_

“You can believe in aliens, but not cryptids?” Keith sighs. “You guys have Netflix?”

We both nod.

“Good. There’re some documentaries you have to watch. You can’t say you don’t believe once you watch them.”

I whip my head towards him. I can’t believe this. Not only does he believe in cryptids, but he watches conspiracy theory documentaries? This is gold. This is absolutely the best day ever.

Our conversation is cut short by the looming sign of Best Buy. We stand in a line across the front of the automatic doors and no one makes a move to go in.

I look to Pidge. _“Well?”_

“Holy crap I can’t do this.” They’re starting to panic. I can see them backpedaling and both Keith and I hold on to one of their shoulders.

 _“You said they’re your soulmate.”_ They nod. _“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”_

“What if she doesn’t like me? What if she’s my soulmate, but I’m not hers? What if all this soulmate stuff is bullshit and it doesn’t turn out well at all and six months from now or something I’m feeling like an idiot because I believed in some magical mark on my skin?”

Keith pointedly looks at me and I squeeze Pidge’s shoulder. I’ve already assured them before and I don’t know what else to do except lead them in. I don’t want to push them, though. This has to be their decision.

“Your parents are soulmates?” 

We both look to Keith.

“Yeah?” Pidge replies.

“Do they love each other?” 

“I think so.”

“Do they regret finding each other?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing,” Keith interrupts. “You have a soulmate. There’s someone right here for you that’s supposed to be made for you or whatever. Go in there and talk to her.”

He lets go of their shoulder and I follow suit. I’m expecting Pidge to bolt, but they march forward instead. The automatic doors slide open and we follow in their wake.

I make sure to switch to the texts that are only between Keith and me. _“What happened to soulmates being bullshit?”_

“I only said that I don’t think people should be forced into it.” He runs his hand through his hair. “If they’re already attracted to each other they should try it out. Nothing wrong with that.”

I snort. _“Look at you Mr. Matchmaker.”_

We take a position a little ways away from where Pidge is asking another employee where Romelle is. He points off in the direction of the video game section and we follow the giant sign to get there. We peek down a few aisles before seeing the telltale blonde hair.

Pidge walks up to her, fidgeting with their shirt and scarf. It’s reminding me of when we first talked instead of the Pidge from ten minutes ago.

Romelle notices their presence and pops up from where she’s placing PS4 cases on the shelf.

“Oh,” she says. “Hi again.”

Keith and I busy ourselves with looking at other game cases and text each other in case either one of them hears us.

 **Me: Oh my god it’s happening.**  
**Me: My child is getting married.**

**Emo Boy: honestly, this is kinda sweet.**

**Me: I’m gonna forget the fact that you just said that ‘cause it was nice and I don’t need to hear you saying nice things about my friends.**

**Emo Boy: i’m...sorry?**

**Me: You should be.**

“So, did you notice anything weird the other day?” Pidge asks Romelle. She just blinks.

“Like what?”

**Me: Oh man.**

“You know, like,” Pidge gestures with her hands vaguely, “with your arm or something.”

**Emo Boy: did you know they’re this awkward?**

**Me: Sorta, but not this bad????**

Romelle thinks for a second and something pops into her head. “Oh. _Oh._ You mean my… _oh._ ” She’s blushing like crazy and she refuses to look Pidge in the eyes.

**Me: Please please please let this go well.**

**Emo Boy: just chill for a second.**

“Yeah. Umm. Soulmark. Your soulmark. Did you notice anything?”

“I may have noticed something, yes.”

**Emo Boy: holy crap can they just say it.**

**Me: Now who needs to chill?**

“So, what did you notice?”

Holy fucking shit this is getting ridiculous. I got to move this along, but Keith grabs my shoulder and pulls me back.

**Me: Dude. What the hell?**

**Emo Boy: you need to let them handle it. they’re soulmates remember?**

**Me: Fine.**

Look at Keith caring about other people.

“I had your words on my wrist after I met you the first time,” Pidge all but whispers.

Romelle’s entire face goes red, but eventually her mouth softens. “So I guess you’re the reason why I have unsolvable maths equations on my wrist every morning?”

Pidge giggles. Actually giggles. They hold a hand out. “Can I see?”

 **Me: I’m losing my shit here oh my god.**  
**Me: I’m planning their wedding.**

I wait a second for Keith to respond, but he’s not looking at his phone anymore. He’s staring intently at the two of them. His eyes are sort of glassy and his mouth is parted slightly. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say soulmates are more important to him than I thought.

Romelle obliges and lifts up the sleeve of her cardigan to show the forest green words, or rather numbers, written there.

Pidge laughs in disbelief. “Oh my god I’m so sorry. I was solving differential equations yesterday and I was having a hard time with this one. Oh god it’s so long, too.”

Romelle smiles wider and doesn’t take her arm away. Pidge doesn’t make a move to let it go either.

“I’m kind of disappointed though.” Pidge’s face falls. “You left all these numbers on my skin and not one of them was your own.”

Keith and I both look at each other and lose it. I can’t even text him at this point because my body is shaking. Romelle just outdid my pick-up lines. I have never seen anyone that smooth in my life. Pidge must not have either because they’re just standing there in shock. Romelle is looking between Pidge and us, face morphing from confused to entertained.

Eventually Pidge calms down enough to type their number into Romelle’s phone.

“I’m sorry I can’t be with you today,” she says. “Work is still a thing I have to do.”

Pidge waves their hands in front of themself. “Don’t worry about it! We can hang out another time.”

We give our goodbyes and Pidge looks like they would stay in the Best Buy for the rest of their life if they could.

“Guys.”

 _“Yeah?”_ I type.

“She’s so pretty.”

_“I know.”_

“She’s my soulmate.”

_“She’s your soulmate.”_

“She likes me.”

_“Told you so.”_

They punch my arm, but there’s little force behind it.

Despite everything that’s happened, despite how Pidge and I are grinning like idiots and gushing about how amazing it is that they found their soulmate, Keith doesn’t say one word. When we work that night, he snaps and changes the subject back to our paper every time I mention Romelle. He was on board before, but suddenly he seems like everything today wasn’t worth his time. Here I thought things were going alright. 

When he leaves, it’s the first time I realize that he has the ability to look tired.

  


* * *

  


I resist the urge to answer my phone all throughout class even though it’s buzzing up a storm in my pocket. When the professor excuses us, I’m preparing to yell at whoever it is, but then I see the dozens of messages in our group chat.

**Group Chat: burninglove, treehacker, sharpshooter**

**Group Name Changed to “She’s So Pretty”**

**treehacker: I talked to her!**  
**treehacker: She’s amazing and I like her and I’m so glad she’s my soulmate.**  
**treehacker: I mean, I get that we don’t really know each other yet, but I’m excited okay?**

__

****burninglove: aww.**  
burninglove: i support premature infatuation!**

**treehacker: Thank you, Hunk.**

**burninglove: you’re welcome.**

**treehacker: So I was wondering if you guys are gonna be busy on Saturday?**  
**treehacker: I’m a little too nervous to ask her out on an actual date and it’d be cool if she could hang out with us at the apartment first.**

**burninglove: i assume you mean in the afternoon?**

**treehacker: Definitely.**

**burninglove: i’ll be around.**  
**burninglove: i’d love to meet her.**

 **treehacker: Yes!**  
**treehacker: Lance?**  
**treehacker: What about you?**

I scroll through the numerous messages of “Lance.” before getting to the bottom and responding.

 **sharpshooter: Jesus. Give a guy a break.**  
**sharpshooter: You know I’ll be there.**  
**sharpshooter: Gotta appreciate the budding love.**  
**sharpshooter: Also that pick-up line was perfection and I need to study her ways.**

 **treehacker: Nope. You are not discussing that with her.**  
**treehacker: Don’t spoil her.**

 **sharpshooter: Aww.**  
**sharpshooter: Someone’s getting possessive.**

“What’s going on?” Keith asks.

 _“Pidge is inviting Romelle over on Saturday. You wanna come?”_ The words are sent before I can rethink them.

“I’m already coming over, but yeah.”

_“Right. Paper.”_

He scoffs. “You keep forgetting about it. It’s kinda worth 20% of our grade.”

_“I know, I know. It’s getting done.”_

Oh speaking of forgetting, I totally didn’t ask him about the way he was acting yesterday.

 _“Were you okay yesterday?”_ I ask. _“You seemed a little weird.”_

He tilts his head in confusion, but I don’t quite believe he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

_“You know. With Pidge and Romelle.”_

He looks away. “Ah.” He hesitates. “It’s nothing. I get tired easily.”

 _“You and me both know that’s a lie.”_ I cross my arms and stare at him. I’m not stopping until I get an answer.

Or I guess I won’t since he walks away from me. I follow him, but there’s only so much I can do with a moving target.

“It doesn’t really matter if you believe me or not.” His strides become longer and his steps hit the sidewalk quicker.

I don’t drop it, but he doesn’t give me anymore room to ask about it. He’s a wall that I can only manage to climb halfway before the chain-link turns to solid brick.

  


* * *

  


“Does this actually look good or am I crazy?” Pidge asks, tugging at a dark green sweater. It’s the fifth one they’ve tried on today.

_“You’re fine. She already likes you.”_

“Lance is right,” Hunk adds. “She wouldn’t be coming over here if she didn’t already like you.”

Pidge hugs themself and looks to the floor, squeezing themself tightly. 

Hunk wraps his arms around them and lifts them in the air. “We’re right here if you need us.”

Pidge wheezes when he finally puts them down. They brace themselves on a wall before being able to breathe normally. Well, until there’s a knock at the door.

We nod at Pidge and their hand hovers over the doorknob.

“We’re right here,” Hunk repeats.

They take a deep breath and turn it.

“Uh, hey.”

“Oh thank god it’s only Keith,” Pidge says, holding a hand to their chest.

“She’s not here yet?” he asks me.

I shake my head no. 

“Hey, Keith,” Hunk greets from next to me.

Keith looks confused, but then his eyes light up in recognition. “Were you the one with Lance the day he spilled coffee on me?”

“The one and only.”

“Thank you for not getting in my face over that. I think you’re the only one who isn’t on my case.”

What is this? Is Hunk betraying me again? My love. My life. He’s abandoning me for the boy who can’t seem to manage his split ends. Hell, has he ever had a proper haircut in his life? I sincerely doubt it.

“Nah, man. I figured it was just a bad day.” He points his thumb in my direction. “I told him the same thing, but he’s hellbent on making you pay.”

“I literally did actually.” Hunk raises an eyebrow and side-eyes me. “I bought him the same drink when we studied together the first time. He still hates me, but I paid my dues.”

Hunk chuckles and slaps Keith on the back. He stumbles forward a bit from the impact, but smiles at Hunk all the same. “Regardless, welcome to our humble abode. There’s food and drinks in the kitchen if you want anything.”

“Thanks.” Keith points to my bedroom door and I nod. He goes in and I follow.

 _“So, trying to steal my best friend, are we?”_ I cross my arms and try to look intimidating. He’s unphased as usual, but I like to think that every time I poke and prod at him that his resolve to stay calm chips away. It’s only a matter of time before he blows up again and we all see his true self.

“I’ll take what I can get.”

_“Hunk is a perfect cinnamon roll and I will not allow you and your devil music to taint him.”_

He shrugs and lightly pushes me with his shoulder on the way out. “Whatever you say, McClain.”

Another knock on the door sounds and I rush out. Pidge is back in front of it and Hunk and I chant “open it” while they build up their courage. She sighs, turns to acknowledge us, then opens it.

“Hi,” Romelle says cheerfully. She’s more made up than when I saw her at Best Buy. It’s a natural look, but after growing up with my sister, I know when someone is sporting a faux version of no makeup. It’s nice to see, though. She’s making an effort for Pidge.

Speaking of Pidge, they look like they’ve forgotten what words are. I’m almost certain they’re going to start spouting a math equation which will no doubt show up on Romelle’s arm tomorrow. They recover, though and squeak out a “hi” in return.

Romelle peeks past Pidge’s shoulder when she notices us and I can see the blush creeping up her neck start racing with passion. She waves and gives a smile that looks strained. She doesn’t look unhappy to see us, but more like she’s freaking out inside. 

“Well, come on in!” Hunk declares, successfully diffusing some of the nervous energy. “I made a ton of food and there’s no way I’m letting it go to waste.”

Romelle looks to Pidge and they maintain eye contact for a solid two seconds before Pidge nods and directs her to the kitchen. I beckon to Keith to follow. He never did get a chance to grab anything.

It’s a small kitchen, so having five people crammed in here isn’t ideal, but we make do. It’s harder since Pidge and Romelle are trying so hard not to accidentally brush against each other, but the sweetness makes up for it.

Hunk didn’t make anything crazy. Really it’s just spaghetti and meatballs, but he spices everything to perfection. I didn’t know you could make something so simple taste like heaven.

I can also smell garlic and butter wafting from bread laid out on a cookie sheet. Hunk is officially forgiven. He’s seriously my best friend forever.

We make it out to the living room in one piece and everyone’s silent while they eat. We broke the tension when Romelle first got here, but it’s harder the second time around. Someone needs to speak. Anyone.

“So, have you ever tried to solve any of the equations on your wrist?” Hunk asks. That man is always rescuing our incompetent asses.

Romelle covers her mouth and finishes swallowing her food. “I used to be able to when I was younger, but now I’m horrible at it. There’s a reason I’m a history major and not in STEM.”

“Oh, do you go to the Garrison, too?”

“I go to Arus actually.”

I realize I don’t have Romelle’s number and can’t text her. I sign to Hunk instead and he translates.

“Lance asked if—”

“Oh! Allura used to be in my sorority. I never got a chance to meet her, but she’s a legend.”

I widen my eyes in shock. Did I mouth that instead of signing? No. I definitely moved my arms.

_“Wait, you sign?”_

“Sorry to be a bit of a downer, but my brother was in an accident when he was younger and lost his hearing. I learned how to because of him.”

“That’s not a downer at all!” Hunk assures her. “It’s super cool no matter what.”

_“That’s one less person I have to communicate with by text. Makes it easier.”_

She smiles and it’s the first one I’ve seen directed at one of us that doesn’t seem out of place. “Well, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you a ton so I’m glad to make things easier.”

This girl is perfection. I know there’s gonna be some stuff down the line that isn’t so perfect, but I’m honestly so happy right now. Pidge is one lucky person. I wonder if my soulmate will be able to sign. Wordless conversations would mean a whole different thing.

Keith listens to us without a word the whole time while Romelle or Hunk at least partially translate what I’m saying with their responses. I don’t have to type anything for once.

I hate to say this, but I’m kinda worried about Keith. I mean, I couldn’t care less about his emo schtick, but this seems like something else. It’s not like we talk about anything serious so I don’t know if I should keep asking. The soulmates thing didn’t really count.

Oh. Soulmates.

Things start to slow down and I notice Keith looking at his phone and glancing at me in intervals that shorten over time. We have to work.

Tearing myself away isn’t easy.

“I might still be here when you’re done, but I do have work in the morning,” Romelle tells me while giving me a hug just in case.

_“I’ll see you again for sure.”_

She smiles. They all get to work cleaning up while Keith and I get to work on our research paper.

We scan through pages and pages of research from peer-reviewed and hopefully reputable sources. I’m learning way more about black holes than I ever wanted to. Considering that I was and still am a space kid, the realization is exhausting.

I text Keith to end this torture. _“Break. Please.”_

He stretches from behind me. “I’m thinking you’re right.”

I sit back in my chair and swivel around to face him. I squint and try to discern his attitude about Pidge and Romelle. He wasn’t unsupportive of them both being (sort of) girls, so I doubt he’s homophobic. He pushed them to go after her in the first place as well. What the hell is going on in that head of his?

_“So what’s up with your whole soulmate thing?”_

His shoulders slump a tad and he sighs. “I told you. I don’t really believe in that stuff.”

_“So why’d you help Pidge?”_

He freezes. “I just did.”

_“Oh come on. No one just does things. You don’t believe in soulmates, but you pushed them to believe? I don’t buy it.”_

“Lance. Stop.”

_“Stop what?”_

“Stop asking questions. Just stop.”

_“Not until you answer me.”_

He glares at me for way too long and then stands and gathers his things. “I think we did enough today. I’ll send you my notes later.”

_“Are you kidding me?”_

He doesn’t check his phone this time, but replies. “Bye.”

I sit in shock and he walks our our front door. The slam makes me flinch. Every time I bring this up he shuts down and tries to walk away. I mean, I guess we don’t have an agreement to talk to each other about stuff like this, but why the hell is he like this?

I drag my feet into the living room and drop into the couch where Pidge is working on math homework.

 _“Trying to send Romelle more equations?”_ I try to grin, but I don’t think it’s working so well.

“You okay?” she asks without answering my question.

_“Yeah. Keith is just being Keith.”_

She smiles knowingly and hums to herself. “Just give him a little space. He’ll come around.”

I don’t think I can give him space when we see each other almost every day of the week. There’s too much time with him to think about what he’s thinking. I want to know. I need to know. This is just too juicy to let slip by. I’m finding out what his beef is with soulmates. I don’t believe his bullshitting.

Plan: Get Keith to Show Me His Soulmark is go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Pimelle was the highlight of my week.
> 
> Anyone have a guess to what Keith's whole soulmate deal is? If you guess it I'm gonna be entirely impressed. I'm hoping no one will get it, but it'd still be cool.
> 
> So I'm thinking about doing posts once a week on Fridays between 7 and 8 PM (PST). It might change a little when I get my work schedule and start classes, but for now that's where we're at.
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments and all your other lovely signs of affection for this fic! You guys remind me why I love to write stories like this. Get prepared for chapter 4! Lance is gonna haul ass to figure out Keith's problems.


	4. Infiltration

The first step in a proper infiltration scheme is research.

I scour the Internet for articles on reasons people hide their soulmarks. The most common was that it’s too personal to share and they wanted to keep the words between themself and their soulmate. Others often had inappropriate words or were embarrassed about sharing their soulmate’s identity.

The toughest and rarest cases to read about were those with an unrequited soulmate. Articles like _I Love Her, but She Loves Someone Else_ or _Why It’s Okay to Be Unrequited_ fill the search results. Even the ones claiming their life is better off without their soulmate don’t seem happy. Platonic soulmates exist, so I’m definitely not saying that everyone has to be with someone romantically. There’s just something upsetting about not even having that much.

Pidge is settled in their usual spot, but instead of sitting upright they’re laying down with their legs on my lap. In return I’m using them as a lap desk. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship on this couch.

Pidge squawks out a laugh and types something into their laptop. Ever since meeting Romelle, they’ve become more expressive. I mean, they were already veering in that direction since before they met ‘cause I helped them break out of their shell, thank you very much. Still, it’s nice.

 _“How’s Romelle?”_ I ask, wiggling my eyebrows.

They smile. There’s still a hint of embarrassment there. After all, the nervousness doesn’t just disappear because you know they’re meant for you. There’s still the relationship part to tackle.

“Before she left yesterday, I told her I’m ace.”

 _“Oh shit.”_ Fingers crossed Pidge has nothing to worry about anymore. _“What did she say?”_

“She said, and I quote, ‘Do you cuddle?’ and I said yes and she says, ‘there’s nothing an ex could do that my fingers couldn’t, so as long as you’re a good cuddler, I think I can manage.’”

_“I am both in love with and grossed out by knowing that information.”_

They smirk. “She’s the best.”

I try to focus on my work, but I can’t help but fantasize about my own future. I hope he likes my stupid jokes. I hope he likes the way I cuddle.

I pop out of my bubble when I realize the second step in infiltration: having a solid team.

_“So I need your help with something.”_

“Shoot.”

_“I need to get Keith to show me his soulmark.”_

They turn their head slightly in my direction, but keep their eyes on the screen. “Didn’t I say you should give him some space?”

_“You know I don’t know how to do that.”_

“Fair enough.” For a moment when Pidge adjusts their glasses I can see the reflection of a chatroom. I can’t make out anything specific, but the alternating green and lilac usernames complement each other.

 _“Soooooo?”_ I poke their legs.

They draw one of them back and thump it against my own leg. They’re lucky my laptop doesn’t drop because, like them, I can’t afford a new one. Oh god I can’t deal with having to use the library’s loaners. Don’t get me wrong, they work perfectly fine, but spending all my time in the library when I could work at home is not my idea of a good time.

“You’re an idiot, but you did help me with Romelle.”

_“Yessssssss.”_

“I’ve spent many a time convincing people out of things they refuse to give up. If you want something, you have to be really nice, really sneaky, or really annoying.” They raise a finger for each option. “Just depends on the person.”

_“Which one do you think works on Keith?”_

“I haven’t talked to him for more than an hour overall. I don’t think I’m the best person to help you in that department.”

I throw my head back and look to the ceiling for guidance. I don’t know Keith. Not really. I know Shiro’s his brother, he likes dirty chais, he’s good at physics, and his ability to shut down conversations is unmatched. I don’t know what makes him happy and I barely know what makes him tick. All that time spent trying to drive him insane wasn’t meant to get to know him.

_“I’m stuck.”_

“You haven’t even started,” they deadpan. They must take pity on me because they give more advice. “Write down all the ways you can be nice, sneaky, or annoying when it comes to Keith. Experiment.”

I start going through ideas in my head, but honestly it’s way too cluttered up here, so a Google Doc is a better solution.

**Plan: Get Keith to Show Me His Soulmark**

  1. Be nice.
  2. Be sneaky
  3. Be annoying.



But how?

I’m gonna see him four days this week, so maybe I should choose one technique for each day. Saturday can be a wild card. Improvising is totally my specialty.

Nice is gonna be the cringiest ‘cause hello? Being nice to Keith is impossible. I’ll be lying for an entire day. Well, I _am_ a good liar. For sure. I can do it. 

Sneaky is my middle name so there’s no problem there. Just gotta get past the gloves and check out the mark itself. 

And as much as I’m not actually annoying, I can be if I want. Just ask my siblings.

Alright. I got this.

I jot down a few notes when Hunk’s door opens. He comes out with a yawn and a scratching of his arm. He gives what can barely be considered a wave and makes his way into the kitchen.

I can’t tell Hunk about the plan. He’s too nice. He’ll think Keith should be allowed to keep his soulmark a secret like everyone else. Under other circumstances, I would try to agree with him, but all this talk of soulmates being bullshit is getting under my skin. No one should think that without good reason.

I open the leather strings of my band and check out my soulmark. I don’t mind doing it in the apartment ‘cause I don’t have to worry about Hunk or Pidge. They have their own soulmates they believe in. I don’t have to worry about them judging me.

_No one’s allowed to know._

I wish I was. Maybe I’ll find out later this week if he thinks about it hard enough. I get so many bits of his mind that it makes it hard not to want to know everything he knows. I think soulmarks have a mind of their own, though.

One of the things I noticed over the years is that I never get names or phone numbers. I’ve tried a billion times to think of my own name and phone number super hard, but no matter how many times I stayed up waiting by the phone, no one ever called. I don’t get locations either. There’s never anything that would give him away completely.

My theory is that we’re supposed to work for it. People don’t always know which of the two types of soulmarks they have, so they date around. It’s one thing to have spoken words, which are obvious. It’s another thing to try to identify someone based on their thoughts. People like me have to get to know their soulmates well before they can truly figure it out.

Hunk settles himself at the dining room table right next to the couch and munches on his cereal. He idly flips through the pages of an engineering textbook as if it’s a magazine. I still don’t get how or why he does that.

“What’s going on with you guys?” Hunk asks, eyes never leaving the textbook. His spoon misses his mouth and pokes his cheek, sending a bit of milk dribbling down his face and onto his pajama pants.

As he’s wiping up, Pidge responds. “Not much. Talking to Romelle. Working on math. Helping Lance figure out Keith’s soulmark.”

My body locks up. Dammit Pidge. I know I didn’t explicitly tell you not to say anything, but I thought it was implied. She’s smiling at her laptop, but it’s not devious. I don’t think she outed me on purpose.

Hunk sighs, giving up with his fruitless task. “Buddy, I don’t think that’s such a great idea.”

 _“Oh come on,”_ I sign. _“He’s being all sketchy about believing in soulmates and stuff and I just wanna know.”_

“Maybe there’s a reason he doesn’t want anyone to know.”

_“Exactly. I’m trying to find out the reason.”_

Hunk scratches the back of his neck. “Look, I’m not gonna tell you no, but just think about this: if he has a problem with soulmates, there’s probably something seriously private going on there.”

I knew he was gonna start making me feel bad. _“I know. I just can’t understand how someone wouldn’t believe in soulmates.”_

“I know. Just...be careful, alright?”

I shoot him an OK with my fingers.

Hunk’s not wrong. I shouldn’t pry, but damn if I’m not gonna.

  


* * *

  


Alright. Nice. I gotta be nice. I know it’s gonna make me sick, but I’ll die if I don’t know the truth.

Coran dismisses the class and I take this as my chance to trap Keith by wrapping my arm around his shoulder. In a nice way, of course. I can’t use both hands, so I text him with my right.

_“So what am I getting you from Altea today?”_

He shrugs my arm off. Note to self: Keith does not appreciate physical contact.

“I didn’t know you were investing in my chai consumption,” he replies.

 _“What? Can’t I buy a guy a drink?”_ Okay. I mean. That sounds like flirting. It does, but it’s not. I’m doing it for the sake of finding out his soulmark. It’s just being nice if you really think about it. Doesn’t mean anything. Keep going.

“Seems out of place for you.”

_“Well consider it in place.”_

Shiro’s working the register today. He looks between the two of us as if surprised we haven’t killed each other yet. The guy seriously needs to give me more credit.

 _“I wasn’t gonna kill him,”_ I sign.

He shakes his head. _“I didn’t say anything.”_

_“Body language, my man.”_

“Can you guys quit signing? I feel like you’re talking shit and I prefer to be able to provide examples of why both of you are worse,” Keith interrupts.

I raise an eyebrow. _“Since when does—”_ I sign before remembering and switching to my phone. _“Since when does he talk shit?”_

“You clearly know nothing about my brother.”

“Now I feel like you’re talking sh— _poorly_ of me,” Shiro protests.

A customer clears their throat behind us. I forgot we’re not supposed to be chatting up Shiro while he’s at work.

 _“Anyways,”_ I move back to signing, _“we’re both getting our usuals.”_

“Separate or together?”

Before Keith can answer, I hand Shiro cash. He glances at his brother and a flicker of amusement crosses his features. He rings us up and nods over to where Allura is working at the bar.

“You know where to go.”

I do. I also know that when Allura hands us our drinks that I’m giving her double pistols and a wink. As always. Allura laughs and Keith stares.

“Why?”

I take a sip of my latte and sigh. This never stops being perfect. _“The real question is: why not?”_

“You know she could kill you. Shiro would help.”

I push open the door to the shop and let him go through first. _“I’m well aware that two of the most beautiful people in the world are extremely lethal, yes.”_

“Did you just…?”

_“I’m sorry but I don’t choose who I’m attracted to. I just choose to appreciate it.”_

I don’t know if his face is turning pink from the cold or from the fact that I just said his brother is attractive, but it’s entertaining nonetheless.

Seriously, though. Let’s face it: Shiro is hot. He’s this tall, soldier-looking guy with the expressions of the cutest puppy dog ever. Then he’s got the whole white tuft of hair running up the middle of his head contrasting the black. He’s the image of every questioning guy’s wet dreams.

I am neither admitting or denying that I have had one about him.

Keith coughs. “Can we just get off that topic? Please?”

I snort. Good thing I know he’s not a homophobe or that would’ve been a dire wound. It’s just funny as it is. I’m supposed to be working on being nice, but instead I’m complimenting the wrong person. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be admitting to a tiny crush on your friend’s brother.

Doesn’t mean I’m stopping. I have zero impulse control when it comes to Keith. _“I mean, you’ve gotta admit that him and Allura are on the same level. I’ve never been able to choose which one I prefer.”_

“Stop.”

 _“I mean, Allura’s gorgeous and she’d kick anyone’s ass for you. She’s adorable and terrifying, but Shiro.”_ I fake a shiver for extra effect. _“He could crush me with one hand and I wouldn’t mind at all.”_

“I’m drowning myself in bleach when I get home.”

_“What? Is my massive crush on your brother and his best friend weirding you out?”_

“Nope. Not doing this anymore. We’ve crossed into territory I’d rather forget. We never speak of this again.”

I grin. _“No promises.”_

He groans and unhappily waves goodbye. “Stop being gross by tonight.”

_“For you? No way.”_

We interrupt this lovely bout of annoying Keith on accident to remind me that I have Zarkon’s class next.

It’s as awful as usual.

  


* * *

  


_“Why is the boy adamant about not killing the dog?”_ I sign to Kinkade.

It’s only a tiny part out of the whole book, but it’s a recurring theme that makes a comment about human nature as a whole. In a micro way, the boy just doesn’t wanna kill. Kinkade gives the same answer, but it’s too simplistic. There’s a bigger picture here.

_“Try again.”_

Thinking mode commences. I wish he would do this before he answers the first time. He gets the questions right when he focuses, but I need to prompt him to make it happen. For some reason he needs to be told to try. Too many people must’ve underestimated him.

His eyes plead for me to help, but all I can do is lean forward and supply him with a nod. I can’t do this for him. Honestly, I know I don’t have to.

He doesn’t bother to erase the other answer and instead writes a new one underneath.

_He’s lost almost everything. He doesn’t want to lose people anymore._

I know I’m just his tutor, but I’m curious. If he’s anything like Keith, he probably won’t tell me, but I can try.

_“Why is it that you always get the right answer, but you only get it when I tell you to try again?”_

He shrugs, but he gives me more than a gesture. He’s been working on that lately. _“It’s not like anyone cares what answers I give.”_

_“I care.”_

He nods. _“I know.”_

_“Are your teachers making you feel like that?”_

He scratches his nose with the tip of his thumbnail. He starts a sentence, but it’s a couple tries before he figures out the right words.

_“They think I’m dumb.”_

Oh Jesus Christ how could anyone ever think he’s dumb? Do they read his work? Am I the only one who sees this? I can’t be the only one.

 _“What do you think?”_ I ask.

He didn’t expect that question. For a moment he’s back in thinking mode.

He crosses his arms, but at least he keeps his eyes on me. _“Just because I can’t speak doesn’t mean I can’t read.”_

_“And?”_

_“I’m not dumb.”_

I smile. He always gets it the second time around. _“Exactly.”_

We get on with the lesson and he makes sure to think about his answers carefully. He doesn’t get every single one right the first time, but it’s more often than usual. I know I’m gonna have to keep reminding him, but he’s walking on his own. Just gotta get him running.

  


* * *

  


_“The way you helped Pidge out was honestly cool of you.”_

Keith looks to his phone and frowns at it. “You thought it was weird.”

_“I only thought it was weird ‘cause you don’t believe. But you helped anyways, so that’s cool.”_

This is easier than I thought even though I’m calling Keith _cool_. What universe am I living in that this is happening?

“Thanks, I guess.” He momentarily touches his own wrist, but pulls back immediately. “They clearly believe in soulmates, so what’s the point of making them more nervous than they already were?”

I will admit his way of thinking isn’t bad. God. Brain. Stop. I can’t do this tomorrow. No way. Just for the rest of today and then it’s over.

_“If you’re nice enough to help other people, I bet your soulmate will like you too.”_

He stiffens up and doesn’t answer. Okay. Guess being nice isn’t gonna work.

“See you Wednesday,” Keith says, pushing his hands into his coat pockets without waving goodbye.

I text him before he can get too far. 

_“I’m serious. Thanks.”_

He pauses, but walks on nonetheless.

Alright, Wednesday is for working on the paper at my place. I’ve gotta find a way to see the mark itself. I don’t wanna injure him, so throwing coffee on him isn’t an option. I’ve gotta find a way to get those damn gloves off.

Keith: 1; Lance: 0

It won’t stay that way for long.

  


* * *

  


It’s the first time Keith’s come over that we don’t have to help Pidge with something before getting our work started. Unlike me who needs to be eased in, he pulls out his laptop and gets lost in his research. It’s making it harder to sneak a peek.

 _“Aren’t you hot in those?”_ I text him. He’s been wearing the gloves the entire time he’s been here, yet he took off his coat when he first showed up. They’re fingerless, so I doubt they’re unbearable, but they’re the kind of material that’s used for mittens.

“I’m fine,” he replies. He’s been compiling notes for the last hour. he may be good at remembering information without them, but he’s still thorough.

I can’t stand watching him. I’ve been playing around on my phone longer than is advisable and I need to not be near scientific journals. _“Break time. I need food.”_

He arches his back and raises his arms to stretch and I can’t help but admire the shape of him. His shoulders are broad and his torso tapers a bit part-way down. His shirt isn’t undersized, but when it stretches across him I can see that he’s one for exercise. Objectively, he’s as good-looking as his brother.

My stomach starts warming and I run away from those thoughts immediately. Just because he looks good doesn’t mean his personality doesn’t suck. He’s good for someone else. Not like I’m implying that I’m thinking about whether or not he’s good for me. Nope. This is not happening.

The lunchtime meal of the day is ramen. Why? Because all three of us forgot to go to the store so we’re stuck with ramen until Hunk gets back. I’m sure he could tell me how to make it taste better, but alas, he’s studying in the library. He’s not a happy camper when you bother him.

I check the bottom cabinet for a pot and find one way in the back. I could grab it, but I know we have another one in the sink that needs washing. Couldn’t be more perfect.

I look to Keith who’s leaning against the wall in one corner of the kitchen with his arms crossed. I try to keep the corners of my lips from twitching.

 _“Mind doing me a favor?”_ I ask. I hope I’m not cracking. I’m not known for being subtle.

Keith shifts in answer.

_“I need a pot. Can you wash the one in the sink?”_

He looks back and forth between me and the nonstick pot sitting ominously before him. He’s gotta take off his gloves now. No way he’s getting them wet. He’s trapped. He doesn’t know about the second pot and we’re gonna keep it that way.

Instead of answering, he saunters over with a scowl. He looks me dead in the eyes while he picks up a pair of dishwashing gloves. He slips them on and gets to work scrubbing.

Fuck me and my obsession with keeping my hands soft.

When he’s done I set the water to boil, waiting until the bubbles pop in quick succession. I can’t believe I forgot about the gloves. I can’t believe he even noticed them. I don’t see him as the kind of guy that washes his dishes with dishwashing gloves. Although, he is a gloves kind of guy in general.

The whole time he eyes me like a cat trying to figure out whether or not he’s supposed to stay put or pounce. I try not to look.

I tear open two bags of ramen packaging and before I can drop the dry noodles into the water, Keith says, “Wait, what are the odds that you have miso paste?”

_“I have no idea what that is.”_

He checks the door side of our fridge and looks through the condiments. He plucks two bottles from the shelf and places them on the counter next to the stove.

“Move.” He grabs some measuring spoons. “Are you allergic to anything?”

_“Not that I know of.”_

“Then this’ll be easy.”

I back up to the corner where he was originally standing and let him do his work. He halves the amount of powder, puts a chunk of miso paste in, sprinkles some soy sauce, and lets the whole thing melt together.

_“Well look at you, Mr. Connoisseur.”_

“Sorry my dad taught me how to make ramen properly,” he deadpans.

_“Dinnertime with the Koganes featuring proper instant ramen.”_

He rummages in our crisper and pulls out some leftover scallions. “Watch the ramen for a second.”

I roll my eyes which results in him jostling me when he sets up his cutting station.

_“Are you really sure you want food ‘cause I can just eat yours if you’re gonna act like that.”_

He chuckles and gets to work on chopping, the dull thump of the knife meeting the cutting board. It’s quiet between us with only the bubbling of water and the cutting of onions, but it’s nice. It’s like our walks: no bickering, no getting ready to kill each other, and few insults. We’re just here.

My brain is majorly fucked up if I think spending time with Keith is nice. Someone send help.

He divides the ramen evenly between two bowls and sprinkles the scallions over the top. It’s official. I need to be inside Keith’s head more than ever because whatever he did to this ramen is insane. It’s not genius ‘cause I’m not going there, but instant ramen is not supposed to taste this good.

We don’t finish in the kitchen and instead move to my room. I don’t like taking up the living room when there’s no need to and we have research to get done. My room is the best place for us even if it means possibly spilling something on the floor, which I have been known to do on occasion. It’s not my fault that bowls are sometimes hotter than they should be.

 _“I hate you,”_ I text instead of praise.

He shrugs and slurps down his noodles.

_“Can I try on your gloves?”_

Look, I know it’s not the most subtle way to ask him to show his soulmark, but I’m running out of ideas here. I already said I’m not gonna injure him. I don’t go back on my promises. Plus, Hunk would kill me dead.

He narrows his eyes. “No?”

_“Why does it sound like there’s a question mark in there?”_

“There isn’t.”

_“Come onnnnnnnn. Let me wear themmmmmmm.”_

He holds out a hand and I reach out to slip off his glove. He pulls back. “I meant give me your bowl.”

I hand it off. It’s easier to be sneaky when you set things up in advance. I didn’t think about doing it. I really need to get reacquainted with my sneaky side. I’m sorely lacking.

When we’re done for the day and he leaves the apartment, I realize I didn’t get closer to my goal at all. I’ll have to spend tomorrow and/or Saturday trying to drag his secret out of him.

So why is it that I’m so calm about it?

  


* * *

  


I can barely concentrate in class. Keith’s gonna have to be the one to do our assignment for next week. I doubt I’ll even be able to solve the first question.

I need to continue my plan, Coran. Physics is not important right now. The future of soulmate philosophy is in my hands as you speak and I’m not making any progress. End. The. Class.

Coran finally gives me what I want, but at his pace of course ‘cause he has to take up the entire class time. Bleh.

I jump out of my chair and Keith flinches.

 _“Ready to go?”_ I ask.

He eyes me cautiously, but follows me out all the same.

_“So Pidge and Romelle are doing great. She doesn’t care about Pidge being ace either.”_

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Good for them.”

_“What do you think about that anyways? Like, what if your soulmate didn’t like something about you that you couldn’t change?”_

“Then I wouldn’t change?”

_“Yeah, but like, you wanna keep your soulmate, right?”_

He slows his walking to a stop and looks to the ground. “Where are you going with this?”

 _“Nowhere.”_ Don’t panic. _“I’m just curious.”_

He starts up his stride again and I jog to get back to my place beside him. “I told you soulmates are bogus. Why would I care if mine didn’t like me? It just proves my point.”

_“Wait, wouldn’t that be more like unrequited soulmates?”_

“I guess so unless they both have each other’s words on their wrists.”

_“I’ve never heard of soulmates not getting together if they know they’re each other’s soulmate.”_

Keith shrugs and doesn’t answer. I’m getting somewhere. He hasn’t completely shut down yet. I’ve got about one more try here before he does.

_“Wait, is your soulmate unrequited?”_

He sighs. “I told you to stop asking questions about this. I don’t believe soulmates are real. They’re a suggestion and sometimes they’re shit ones. Just because your wrist says so doesn’t mean you’re gonna end up with the person on the other side of your soulmark. Now drop it.”

He didn’t really answer my question, but I’m getting the sense that his soulmate problem has to do with who his soulmate is. Does he know who they are? Does he hate them? Is it unrequited? Do they have each other’s mark and don’t wanna be together? There’s too much information I’m missing here.

I skip ahead and turn around to face him. I’m able to walk backwards since it’s early and almost no one is out. _“Wait, you asked Pidge if their parents were soulmates and if they love each other. Your parents must’ve been soulmates if they had you, right?”_

“They were.”

I need him to stop being vague every time I ask him something. Jesus. Getting information from him is like...oh God what’s that phrase? _Ser como buscar una aguja en un pajar…_ Oh! Like finding a needle in a haystack.

“Were?”

“Stop asking.”

_“You leave me with vague information and then you just stop talking??? What’s with that???”_

He runs his hands through his hair. His tone is getting more frustrated. “Anything I say is blackmail material for you so why should I answer?”

_“Because I’m curious.”_

His brow is furrowed. He pauses long enough for me to start writing another text, but interrupts me before I can press send.

“Well since you’re so _curious_ , my mom left my dad, so that should tell you that soulmates don’t mean anything.”

Anything I had to say is gone. Soulmates leaving each other for good isn’t unheard of, but it’s rare. There’s always a reason that one leaves, but it’s something the other soulmate accepts. Still, I don’t know what to say here.

What I do know is that he’s still not telling me the whole truth. I mean, it explains why he doesn’t believe they actually work, but that’s one example out of a million. He has to have seen other people stay together. He has to have heard that people leaving like that is rarer than a soulmate dying prematurely.

 _“Did your dad ever tell you why?”_ The message is sent before I can delete it. I just meant to write it to get it out of my system, but I know it was the wrong question to send when his face gets screwed up.

“No and he never will.”

Oh man I fucked up. Oh man oh man oh man. I mean, sure, I like to mess with him and get him annoyed, but this isn’t what I want. He looks sad and _tired_. I put my phone away and we spend the rest of our time in silence.

I buy his drink again and he thanks me with a nod. I have to run to class, but I don’t want to leave him here. I need to apologize. I need to do something period.

Instead I throw a thumb over my shoulder, smile, and head off like I didn’t just make someone I met only three weeks ago tell me that his dad died. Well, that’s too hypothetical.

That’s exactly what I made him do.

  


* * *

  


For the first time, Kinkade comes in for a second session in the same week.

He and I discuss how the boy is always saying “okay” when the man demands acceptance of his words. The man often responds with, “but you don’t believe me”. The boy doesn’t like speaking up and instead lets everyone think he’s fine.

I don’t remember much else. I think Kinkade is wondering where I’ve gone.

  


* * *

  


I wait in front of Club Voltron for Keith, but after ten minutes, I realize that I’m an absolute idiot. He’s not coming anymore. I act like a jerk and make him tell me things that are completely private and I think he’s gonna keep helping me with my problems?

The alley of my nightmares is here before I know it. I haven’t paid attention to it much since Keith started walking with me, but that doesn’t mean it ever disappeared. The figure is there again, but along with the fear that they’re gonna jump me, I feel complete frustration. I’m so done with this.

I wave my arms above my head and it doesn’t move. God. Just move! Give me some hint of what you are. All I need is for you to reveal yourself so I don’t have to go on wondering. I’d rather you attack me at this point than not know. Seriously.

I march toward the alley ready to die, but I don’t care ‘cause I’m sick of this thing’s shit. When I approach I see the color of their outfit. It’s some sort of red and white costume. Is that...a cardboard cutout?

Oh my God what the fuck. Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been afraid of a goddam Power Rangers cutout that’s been chilling there for weeks? It should’ve been thrown away. Apparently the city is slacking on the garbage route for this area.

I’m never telling anyone about this. It’s going to my grave. Even then I’m making sure no one can get into my grave so they won’t access it. I want all the chains with all the locks surrounding my coffin. Maybe a steel vault? I’ll find some way to afford it.

Just as I’m about to kick it to show what I’m made of, a hand grabs my arm from behind. I take a sharp inhale of breath and yank my arm away. This is it. This is where I die.

"Oww. You didn't have to pull that hard." The perpetrator has his hand on his shoulder while he rolls it.

I scramble to get to my phone, still shaking. _“WHAT THE FUCK!!!!”_

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— I just—” He takes all the air in his lungs and expels it. “I’m late. I’m sorry.”

There it is: that weird side of him that’s suddenly polite or even _nice_ when he chooses to be.

_“Why didn’t you just call out to me like a normal person???”_

“I—” He tugs the edges of his gloves further up his wrist. “I didn’t really think of that. I just kinda...did it?”

I shove a hand into my pocket and look into the alley that a minute ago was the source of all my fears.

_“I thought you weren’t gonna show.”_

“You know, I’m not a complete asshole. I know I was a dick when we first met and I’m sorry. I know I’ve been all moody or ‘emo’” he puts air quotes around it, “or something, but I’m not exactly good at this whole talking about my life story thing. I wouldn’t leave you out here, though.” A pause. “Did you really think I was gonna leave you out here?”

Part of me was hoping he’d show, but part of me also knew that I went too far and it would make sense if he didn’t. I don’t know how to shut up sometimes, I know.

_“I wouldn’t have been surprised.”_

A flash of hurt crosses his features, but he composes himself and shoves my shoulder with his own. “I’m here. Let’s go.”

Usually everything is quiet, but I can’t stop talking. I need to fix this. I don’t know why, but I can’t live with the idea that I did something like this. I don’t aim to hurt. Not really. I just...thought I was being regular annoying. Acting like that was on purpose, but it wasn’t meant to do damage. I didn’t mean to.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ I text finally.

He laughs in disbelief. “Lance McClain saying sorry. All it took was a sad story from an orphan.” He crosses his arms as if to combat the cold.

_“That’s not what I’m sorry for. Well, I am, but not just that.”_

“What for then?”

_“Your soulmate is important to you right? I wouldn’t share my soulmate with someone who’s been annoying for the entirety of the time I’ve known them._

_“You were right to shut me down. I believe in soulmates, but you have your reasons not to. So yeah. Sorry.”_

The whole way home he doesn’t look at me. It’s only when we reach my door that I realize why. He’s smiling. He’s never smiled about me. I mean, he smirks ‘cause I act like a jackass, but he’s actually smiling for real. It’s nothing huge. It’s one of those small ones I catch on Pidge when they’re talking to Romelle or on Hunk when he talks about home.

“I’ll see you Saturday.”

He’s walking away and I don’t know what to do except grab him. He’s confused and hell, so am I. I don’t have anything to say. I don’t know why I’m doing this. He waits patiently while I try to figure out how to make this less awkward.

I let go. That’s how I make it less awkward. _“Just wanted to make sure you knew I’m still gonna make your life hell.”_

The smile stays and part of me wishes he would too God what the _fuck_ is wrong with me?

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

I check my soulmark five thousand times give or take before I fall asleep.

_I don’t want you inside my head._

Part of me wonders if my soulmate is tired of having someone else on the other end. I can’t help feeling sorry about that too. I know I’m trying. I’m just bad at...honestly I don’t know what, but whatever it is, hopefully he can forgive me for it.

  


* * *

  


I think I hear the front door open and Pidge talking to someone, but I doubt it. Keith would let me know if he was here. I have to let him up. He got lucky someone held the door for him once or twice. That never happens.

He’s taking forever and I seriously have to pee. He can wait a few minutes if I’m busy. It’s not insanely cold outside. 

Pidge is out on the couch when I leave my room and they almost say something. I wait a second to see if they’ll spit it out, but instead they smile and get back to work. They’re so weird sometimes.

The bathroom door is closed, but I know Hunk is out. Maybe Pidge has a habit of closing the door after using it that I don’t know about. Hunk never does it so it’s the only explanation.

When I open the door, I’m not expecting to see Keith washing his hands. I’m not expecting to see his gloves resting on the faucet.

I’m not expecting the lack of color on his left wrist.

His eyes widen. He drags me into the room. He slams the door behind me. He leans against the sink and takes deep breaths. It’s not quite hyperventilating, but you never know how bad it can get in the privacy of a bathroom.

“D-don’t tell anyone.”

I left my phone in my room, so instead I shake my head like crazy.

“Please don’t.”

I shake my head again, but he doesn’t stop saying it. He repeats it like a mantra almost like he used to say it to himself as a kid.

Mission complete, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyy I don't hurt them on purpose I swear I'm sorry.
> 
> So! As of this chapter's original posting, the following people guessed that Keith doesn't have a soulmark: @MyChemicalKlance @Jinxdangel80 @nistaana @CandiLucky419 @Pechat @Junipurrr @burdenedwithgloriousfandoms @Whitepaladin
> 
> Thank you so much for all your kudos, comments, and bookmarks! I'm a few away from 400 right now and I'm honestly shocked??? I can't wait to write chapter 5 and give you some of that Klance goodness.


	5. Boyhood

I don’t wanna get out of bed today. The way things turned out yesterday, I don’t think I can so much as look at Hunk or Pidge without spilling everything. It’s too much for one man to handle and I am only one man.

Before Keith could give me a chance to grab my phone so we could talk, he left. I tried to distract myself by working on our paper, but it didn’t do shit because _Keith doesn’t have a soulmate._

I didn’t think it was possible. I still don’t. Not the way his works. Everyone has a soulmate even if it’s unrequited. Everyone has the changing words on their wrists except for those whose soulmates died. In their case, they still have the last words their soulmate either thought or said etched there forever. Usually they’re positive.

He doesn’t have anything. No words. Not even a blotch that could maybe count as something. It’s like he wasn’t meant to be with anyone in the first place. He was always destined to have relatively shallow connections with people.

If I didn’t have a soulmark, I’d think the same way he does. I’d think the universe screwed up and now I get to decide who I fall in love with, soulmates be damned. Is that why he looks so distant when he sees Pidge and Romelle together? God. I brought it up so many times.

I want to talk this out with him ‘cause, at least once, I need to let him know that he’s not alone. He didn’t respond yesterday, but there’s no harm in sending another quick text.

 **Me: Keith?**  
**Me: Can we talk?**

Twenty minutes later and still no response. I know better than to push it now. I don’t need a repeat of last week on my hands.

He doesn’t need to explain everything, but at least I need to know that he’s okay. I haven’t had the opportunity to see him since he walked out. He could be lying dead in the snow for all I know, a frozen mullet-sicle.

He lives with Shiro, so I should try there. Maybe Allura, too? I text them both and wait. Shiro responds first.

**Coffee Dad: What’s up?**

Oh shit. I need to lie. Shiro will freak out if he thinks something’s wrong. I remember I let slip one time that Hunk was dying with a cold. Shiro gave me a 30 minute lecture on how to take care of him. I don’t know how he’d handle his brother disappearing after being with me.

 **Me: Not much.**  
**Me: Just wanted to ask, does Keith live with you?**

**Coffee Dad: Yep. He wants to live on his own, but I don’t trust him not to burn down his own apartment.**

**Me: Honestly wouldn’t be surprised.**

**Coffee Dad: Haha.**  
**Coffee Dad: By the way, are you guys really getting along?**  
**Coffee Dad: He seemed fine up until last night.**  
**Coffee Dad: He came in all moody.**

Oh thank god. He made it home. Thank you for semi-reading my mind, Shiro, my man. You’re da best.

**Me: The usual. Couldn’t take what I had to dish out.**

**Coffee Dad: Well, don’t torture the kid.**  
**Coffee Dad: He’s a huge softie.**

**Me: Ohoho. I’ll take that into consideration next time I see him.**

**Coffee Dad: Please don’t.**

A notification with Allura’s name pops up, but Shiro still has something to say.

 **Coffee Dad: I know it sounds really weird of me to say this, but thanks.**  
**Coffee Dad: I know Keith is all prickly sometimes, but he talks about you guys a lot. It’s nice.**

**Me: Oh. No problem, I guess.**

**Coffee Dad: So whatever’s going on between you guys right now, I hope you fix it.**

I make a noise similar to a “k” with my mouth. If I knew whether or not I was at fault for this, I would be able to do something about it. Not to mention that Keith is AWOL.

**Me: For sure.**

I switch over to my conversation with Allura. I may not have a solid reason to talk to her right now, but since she exists, I think she deserves my time.

**Princess: yes, lance?**

**Me: Just wanted to let you know how perfect you are.**

**Princess: considering your relationship with keith, should you be saying that?**

What the fuck?

**Me: Umm. What relationship?**

**Princess: oh come off it. shiro may not see it, but i do.**  
**Princess: spill.**

 **Me: There’s nothing to spill.**  
**Me: We’re just physics partners.**

**Princess: he spends a lot of time at your flat.**

**Me: To study.**

**Princess: i heard he helped out your friend with their soulmate.**

**Me: Where are you getting these things from???**

**Princess: i have my little mice running about.**

**Me: Is that literal or figurative?**

**Princess: i plead the 6th.**

**Me: ...It’s the 5th.**

**Princess: regardless, you know exactly what i’m talking about.**

****Princess: you two are awfully close for just physics partners.**  
**Princess: i’m looking forward to your development as a pair.****

****

**Me: THERE IS NO PAIR.**

**Princess: oh! back to my shift.**  
**Princess: in the meantime, don’t do anything i wouldn’t do~**

 **Me: I’ve heard the stories.**  
**Me: You’ve done everything.**

**Princess: precisely ;)**

I have the information I needed and got way more than I wanted. Allura is insane if she thinks Keith and I have something going on. Yeah, he hangs out at my apartment and helped Pidge out with Romelle oh my God are we friends?

It’s not like making a friend this fast is weird. If anything, considering when we met, we’re on the slow side. Pidge only needed a couple weeks before they were willing to insult me in front of other people. Now that’s true friendship.

I don’t know the last time I was actually trying to outdo him. Ruining his life hasn’t been part of the plan in awhile either. Lately, all I’ve wanted to do is get inside his head. That puzzle of a head.

I know I should leave things alone considering how my curiosity gets me in trouble—mainly with Keith—but this time is different. I don’t wanna harass him. I don’t wanna get inside his head for the sake of having information I probably shouldn’t have.

I want to figure this out because I don’t know if he has himself.

He looked so sure that he understood what it meant not to have a soulmark. Up until now, I was sure that it was impossible. I’ve never even heard of it. I’m sure he’s looked it up at some time or another, but there shouldn’t be an end-all-be-all for his love life. Or friendship life. Honestly I don’t know what his soulmark should be, but there’s no way he doesn’t have a soulmate.

I do an Internet search, but this time for people who don’t have soulmarks. Of course, it turns up nothing. Well, nothing solid. It’s mostly people who brood about it, but they don’t explain why they don’t have one. No one seems to know. It’s just the way it is for them.

I’ll have to dig deeper. Someone has to know something.

I hate working in bed, but that’s how it has to be today. Bathroom and food breaks will require surveillance and vigilance so that neither Hunk nor Pidge catches me. I’ll figure out later how to master my poker face and, subsequently, my mouth.

Mute puns will never stop being funny.

I’m knee deep in a comparison of Sigmund Freud’s and Carl Jung’s work when my phone buzzes. I know it’s not gonna be Keith, but I can’t help hoping.

It’s not. It’s my sister.

**V: Hey. How’s school going?**

I bite back a smile. She’s one of my favorite homework distractions.

 **Me: Same as usual.**  
**Me: Killin it with the ladies.**  
**Me: Making the fellas swoon.**

 **V: I’m sure.**  
**V: We haven’t talked in a while.**  
**V: I was figuring you’d call eventually.**

****Me: Oh shit I’m sorry.**  
Me: Just got busy with some stuff over here.**

Technically it’s not a lie, but it’s not a good truth. I could’ve texted her at any time. Any Sunday I could’ve called her up for an hour just to give her an update. I didn’t.

 **V: I could say the same.**  
**V: You up for a Skype call sometime this week?**

 **Me: Ahhhh. This week isn’t so great.**  
**Me: I’m finishing up an essay for my physics class.**  
**Me: How about next week?**

**V: I bet I can pencil you in.**

**Me: Gee, thanks.**

**V: I’ve gotta run.**  
**V: You really are doing okay, right?**

**Me: Stop worrying.**

**V: I’ll stop worrying when you stop giving me things to worry about.**

**Me: Run along.**

Veronica never stops bugging me about whether or not I’m doing okay. I think she’s worse than my mamá. I get that we were stupid as kids and I got hurt a lot, but I’m older now. She doesn’t have to babysit me anymore.

Still, I’m glad she calls from time to time. I feel so far away from home half the time that it’s nice to hear even a single voice from Florida. My mamá is perpetually busy so it almost feels wrong to take time out of her day just to say hi. Veronica is the best option I have now that Luis is busy with his own family and Rachel and Marco are working on their PhDs.

Like me, Veronica hasn’t found her soulmate. We’re racing each other to find them, but no luck yet. If I find them first, she’ll never live it down. Being the youngest McClain sibling means I’m supposed to find mine last. She’ll be dead last in the soulmate search after I find mine. Marco, Luis, and Rachel are already set.

Soulmates.

Keith. Get out of my head. Seriously. Just text me. Anything. Just so I can stop thinking about your stupid mark so much. Just talk to me so I can do something here.

He doesn’t.

  


* * *

  


I need extra courage today because I’m seeing Keith for the first time since Saturday. I check my soulmark before wrapping it up to remind me that things are okay. Things will always be okay.

_It was supposed to stop hurting already._

Things are not okay.

Keith isn’t in class yet. When Coran starts lecture, he isn’t here. When class ends, he doesn’t leave with me because he’s still not here. He’s not at Altea in line for his chai. He’s not wandering around campus. He’s not anywhere.

Yet again he’s running away from me. I know I cause problems and I know I’m not exactly helpful sometimes, but at least trust me not to intentionally hurt you over this. Never this.

  


* * *

  


_“Oh man you’re reading Ender’s Game!”_ I sign. Kinkade is officially my saving grace for the day.

He brightens a bit. _“I’ve read it three times.”_

_“Then you’re getting a fourth chance to enjoy the magic.”_

When I was a kid, all I wanted was to go to space and fight evil aliens. I’d watch tons of cartoons and movies where heroes would save the universe and couldn’t help wanting to be one of them. Marco lent me his copy of _Ender’s Game_ when he decided I was old enough and I was hooked. There’re other books that branch off of it, but nothing will ever compare to first time I read that book.

 _“Do you need help with the questions or can we just geek out about it?”_ I ask. Please say we can just geek out about it. This would make the sessions so much more fun. I mean, they’re already cool because Kinkade is my favorite student, but if I get to spend an hour rambling about the book I love, that would be ideal.

He smiles. _“Ever thought about what being a third would be like?”_

Only all the time. _“I can’t imagine everyone I know thinking I shouldn’t be alive, but I am anyways. You’re marked and the entire class knows that you’re like...walking death?”_ I don’t quite know how to explain that one, but Kinkade picks up right where I stop.

_“It’s almost like being a ghost. Ender gets to go somewhere and be someone, but what if you got your monitor out and went on living like a regular person?”_

That would be pure torture. I sign as much. _“The bullying would be worse. You’d either get shoved around every day or people would avoid you like the plague.”_

He nods. _“That actually reminds me of this one kid I knew growing up.”_

 _“You knew a kid with a monitor?”_ I didn’t know we had anything like that. I think some people chip their kids like they chip dogs, but I didn’t think we had anything that could let you monitor your kid’s every...well, everything.

He makes the motion of laughter, a small wheezing taking place of the normal noise. I can’t believe he’s laughing. _“No, but there was a kid who kinda had the opposite thing.”_

I wait for him to go on.

_“So you know how most kids don’t wear bands when they get their marks in middle school? There was this one kid who did. His friend and him got in a fight over it and the friend managed to slip his band off. There was nothing there.”_

What the fuck. I lean forward like it’s gonna make the information come faster. _“You’re sure this happened?”_

 _“Yeah?”_ He leans back a little. _“He left school not long after that. We were monsters back then.”_

I know it’s not Keith ‘cause Kinkade is a few years younger than both of us, but someone having the same condition is insane. I’ll never be able to track them down, though. No way do they have any records about his soulmark and even if they did, he’s still a minor. This is good, though. There’s something out there.

 _“You okay?”_ Kinkade asks, popping my bubble.

I nod my head quickly. _“Oh yeah. Definitely fine.”_

_“Okay, so which member of Dragon Army would you want leading you?”_

Oh this kid is my favorite alright. _“The easy answer would be Ender, but can we talk about Bean?”_

  


* * *

  


I almost walk away from the building right as I exit, but I don’t. Keith told me last time that he wouldn’t leave me out here and I believe him. Things are weird, but like he said, he’s not a complete dick.

I don’t recognize the bundle of snow beast standing in front of me at first, but the mullet peeking out underneath the hat tells me it’s Keith. He’s wearing a particularly thick coat with a maroon scarf that makes his neck disappear. His gloves aren’t fingerless, but covered all the way to his fingertips. I don’t think it’s much colder today than usual. Maybe he’s just sensitive to temperature.

“Come on,” he says, muffled by the scarf.

I pull it down a little so I can see his face. He’s frowning. I let go and start walking.

As much as I wanna start up a conversation to get things back to normal, I have to wait for him to make the first move. I learned it from my siblings. If you want things to go over well, let the person’s who’s most hurt come to you.

But Jesus Christ is he stubborn. He can’t pretend like I’m not here the whole way home. That’s it. Sibling rules be damned.

 _“Keith,”_ I text. _“Can we just talk about this? I don’t wanna ignore it.”_

He looks at the text and I think I hear him sigh.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

_“I think it is.”_

“Well then you’re wrong.”

I refrain from clicking my tongue. He’s always pushing me. _“Talk to me.”_

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

_“Then can we talk about something? Anything? I can’t stand the silent treatment.”_

He looks out to the street where a lone person walks, presumably, to their home.

“You can talk, but I don’t want to.”

If that’s all I can get, then that’s fine with me. I want more, but there’s only so much I can do. I won’t stop trying—I don’t know how to—but for now he doesn’t have to tell me. I just have to know he’s listening.

A week. He has a week before he has to tell me. I’ve decided.

Instead of digging at the real issue, I tell him about the three people I texted yesterday.

I tell him how Shiro called him a softie and Keith mumbles out a “I’m gonna kill him.”

I tell him how Allura has all these crazy stories from her sorority days that I’ll have to explain in detail another time. I do tell him that one story involves Shiro drenched in tequila. Somehow he doesn’t know that one. I conveniently forget to tell him about the part where Allura told me she thinks we’re a thing.

I tell him about Veronica and how we’ve looked out for each other as well as tried to kill each other since we were kids. Ever since I left, we’ve been trying to keep up with each other’s lives from afar, but sometimes it doesn’t work.

“She your only sibling?” Keith asks. It’s the first time he’s initiated anything tonight.

_“Nope. I have two brothers and a sister, Marco and Luis, and then Rachel. Oh and then Luis's wife, Lisa. They have a couple of kids as well so I get to be Tío Lance. Basically I’m a glorified older brother to them.”_

He takes his hands out of his pockets and adjusts his scarf so he can be heard easier.

“Sounds nice.”

_“What about you and Shiro? No other siblings?”_

“I mean, we’re technically not siblings to begin with.”

_“What?”_

Shiro called Keith his kid brother before. Keith hasn’t contradicted that once. Since when were they not brothers? I mean, they don’t exactly look alike, but I figured they have parents with vastly different facial features and builds.

“I met Shiro through a mentor program I got forced into when I was about...13 or 14?” He shrugs. “Something like that. But yeah. Didn’t even start living with him until I was 18.”

_“Wait, so Shiro’s parents aren’t your biological parents?”_

“Nope.”

Then it all starts making sense. If Keith’s parents are gone, then it means Shiro’s parents are supposed to be too. I know for a fact they’re not. He mentions them a ton when he gets the chance. He jokes about how his mom can’t understand how to turn off a computer properly so she just holds the power button. He also reminisces about when he and his dad would build model planes together. They’re still around, but Keith’s parents…

_“Foster kid?”_

“Foster kid.”

 _“Oh.”_ I don’t know how to work with this. The only thing I can do is try to move past the topic. _“I don’t do a mentorship program, but I tutor kids.”_

He looks thankful when I change the subject. I’m learning, Keith. Thank God.

“You mentioned it. I assume you teach little kids?” he questions with snark and a smirk.

I try so hard to be a good person and honestly I’m feeling so attacked right now. Lucky for him he’s not completely wrong.

_“I used to. They moved me up to high school kids this semester. It’s tougher ‘cause I have to brush up on more academic words in sign language. Sometimes the kids have better vocabulary than I do.”_

“So, deaf kids?”

 _“Yep! Well, some of them are partially-deaf or mute, but pretty much.”_ He bites back a smile which I bet is verging on teasing as well. _“Go ahead and call me stereotypical, but it’s fun.”_

He hesitates, but moves into his next question anyways. “Why?”

It’s a simple question, but Keith doesn’t usually ask about my personal life. Hell, he would know the names of all my cousins as well as my immediate family if he asked what kind of toothpaste I prefer. Progress.

 _“Well, the best part is when they get all excited that someone else is signing with them. Their signing is a bit hard to understand, but it gets better with time.”_ I remember when my siblings learned it. I was so excited to come home because I had a secret language to communicate in. Well, mamá could tell what we were saying, but we avoided talking about sensitive content in front of her.

“And the high school kids?”

 _“It’s different, but even some of them haven’t had homework help with someone who could sign. They light up a little, but it’s almost like they’re trying to hide it. I can tell, though.”_ Like Kinkade. _“There’s this one kid I met a few weeks ago who started out all stoic. Now we’re going off about Ender’s Game as if we’ve known each other forever.”_

Keith’s eyes brighten. That’s a new look for him.

“How many times have you read it?” he asks with a tone that might actually be excitement. Could it be? Does Keith Kogane, physics kid extraordinaire, actually like something cool?

_“I lost count. You?”_

“Same.”

 _Ender’s Game_ never fails to bring people together. Dear Kinkade’s English teacher, I thank you for your choice of novel. You have my sincerest gratitude.

We get to my door and I only just remember everything that happened in the last week. Things feel better. I’m not gonna push this, but I have one last thing to tell him before he goes.

_“You don’t have to talk to me about it, but I’m not gonna use it against you. You may call it bullshit, but I know it’s important to you. I’m sorry, though. I know I made things harder on you.”_

He doesn’t budge for a while and I sincerely consider getting inside before I freeze. Eventually he makes the motion to run his fingers through his hair before remembering he’s wearing a hat.

“It doesn’t make things harder. I just haven’t told anyone about it besides Shiro and Allura, so it’s weird.”

He turns to leave and whispers a “shit” before turning back again.

“And thanks. For not telling.”

 _“You expect too little of me,”_ I text, placing a hand over my heart dramatically and gasping once it’s sent.

He chuckles and walks off, throwing one last sentence over his shoulder. “Guess I’ll have to change that.”

I don’t know why I was concerned about freezing ‘cause I’m nothing but warm.

I check my soulmark again. And again. And again.

_It was supposed to stop hurting already._

Focus focus focus.

  


* * *

  


**Me: You have your research done, right?**

**Emo Boy: i’ve had it done since monday.**

**Me: Showoff.**

**Emo Boy: you have yours?**

**Me: Hey! This is my interrogation. Not yours.**

**Emo Boy: …**  
**Emo Boy: i don’t want to fail.**

 **Me: We’re not gonna fail!**  
**Me: Just watch me.**

I got this. He’ll come over tomorrow and we’ll be set to finish this thing up. No problem. Just gotta consolidate this shit.

  


* * *

  


“You can’t base all of your research on Stephen Hawking’s theories,” Keith chides.

Joke’s on him. I also looked at Wikipedia.

_“Sources are difficult.”_

“You help high school students analyze literature. How is it that you can’t find valid sources?”

_“Literature is one thing. It’s enjoyable. Papers are full of one thesis repeated ten billion times in ten billion different sentence configurations.”_

He sighs and hands me his laptop. “Read. Comprehend. Write.”

To be fair, it’s not like I didn’t try. I did, but reading scientific journals throws me off. I’m a psych major. We read scientific journals as well, but unlike physics papers, they’re interesting. I didn’t think learning about black holes could be so boring. Child psychological developmental papers? Give me those any day.

I read through his notes and they’re...easy to understand. It’s like they’re made so even someone in high school can read and get through it to a certain extent. Not just that, he’s thorough. We might as well just use his research.

“Look, I’m not great at writing, so if we’re using my sources, you might as well write the paper itself,” he says.

Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Once I have the information summarized, scientific papers aren’t too difficult to work with. I can start formulating a thesis and altering it as I go. Plus I can work with information to support and go against my thesis. This is turning out to be the perfect partnership.

 _“You’re good at physics, but you can’t write for shit? The academically perfect Keith isn’t good at something?”_ I knew he had to be fallible somewhere. I just didn’t know his faults extended outside of his personality.

He fiddles with a pencil while he works on the assignment for class. He may have missed, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on. “Oh? And you’re so good at it?”

_“Years of high school, basic college writing courses, and a few semesters of psych classes helps.”_

“Is that your major?”

I don’t respond for a moment while I finish the paragraph I’m on. _“Yeah. With a concentration in developmental studies.”_

“Which means you’re studying kids?”

_“Sort of. Uh, more like I’m studying how people grow up and how it affects them later in life.”_

He hums. “What are you gonna do with it?”

I have to stop reading ‘cause trying to focus when talking about my future plans is impossible. People tell me I get way too excited about everything. _“Have you ever heard of psychogenic mutism?”_ He shakes his head. _“So basically some people just stop talking. It’s not that they technically can’t, but for some reason or another they don’t want to or psychologically can’t. I want to work with kids who lose their voices.”_

“Is it because you lost yours?”

 _“Nah.”_ I hand his laptop back to him after skimming the summaries and sharing the Google Doc with myself. _“My vocal cords are screwed up. Have been since I was born.”_

He gets back to the assignment and I start up on the paper. I write the outline and start marking up the summaries so I know which section to put them in later.

“Does it ever bother you?” Keith asks.

He’s suddenly the most talkative person in the world. Not that I hate it. I might’ve before, but I kinda like this new Keith. Makes him more tolerable. I wonder when he’ll crack and stop asking questions so I’ll shut up again.

 _“I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t sometimes, but it’s mostly ‘cause of other people. Most are fine, but every once in a while you get that one person that doesn’t want to deal with you.”_ I’m looking at you random female barista at our school coffee shop. _“Mostly I don’t care.”_

He doesn’t follow up with anything else and I realize I’m not asking him any questions. Jesus. I always do this. I don’t ask enough questions and I end up looking like an asshole. Alright. Questions. Go.

 _“What are you majoring in?”_ Okay. Not the most open question, but it’s a start.

“Haven’t really figured that out,” he says, unperturbed. “I’ve just been taking gen eds.”

_“What about physics?”_

“I don’t know. Haven’t thought about it much.”

He’s starting to seem like the kind of person that doesn’t think more than a step ahead. _“I guess you have time. It’s only your sophomore year, right?”_

“Yup,” he replies. He checks a message on his phone and groans. “I have to go. Shiro needs me to watch the store. God forbid he has his own employees do it.”

 _“You want me to keep you company?”_ I should not be asking. I should not be trying to do him a favor. Why why why?

He grabs up his things and his backpack makes a dull thump against his back. “You have an essay to write.”

Thank you for giving me an out here. _“You right.”_

“If you need any help with the notes, just text me.” He heads out into the living room. I don’t bother following. He knows the way out.

He’s gone, leaving me to tackle the 10-page paper in front of me. Okay, I can do this much at least. That much I know.

  


* * *

  


Keith’s back in class again. Things aren’t quite normal, but we’re getting somewhere.

  


* * *

  


_“The whole isolating Ender thing was brutal. I mean, I get they’re trying to create the greatest leader after Rackham, but Jesus. He’s a kid,”_ I sign. We’ve been talking about the book the entire time, his handout lying forgotten to the side. If we could talk, I bet we’d be pissing off the other tutors with how excitable we are.

 _“Bully kids and bully adults,”_ he signs back. _“Sounds like the real world.”_

I nod in agreement. I know it’s sci-fi, but for some kids, isolation isn’t a foreign concept. Even with people around, you might still be the loneliest person in the world.

I never had that problem. With my parents, My grandparents, Marco, his girlfriend, Luis, Lisa, their kids, Rachel, and Veronica in the house, there was never a dull moment. It gets crazy and it sucks when you can’t get attention when you need it, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. I was never alone.

 _“Reminds me of my history professor,”_ I sign lazily.

Kinkade quirks an eyebrow. _“What does he do?”_

I sigh, memories of Zarkon verbally assaulting me in class today for getting the dates wrong on a minor war flooding in. _“He has some weird vendetta against me for using a whiteboard in class to answer questions. Now I think he hates me just ‘cause. Basically he calls on me to answer almost every question until I get something wrong.”_

He crosses his arms and goes into thinking mode. Since starting the book, he hasn’t needed to think all that hard. His answers flow from his mind through his pen to his paper. Most of the time he just talks about whatever pops into his head. No effort needed.

 _“Do you think there’s something wrong with using a whiteboard?”_ Kinkade asks.

I blink. _“No?”_

_“You sure?”_

Am I his teacher right now or is he mine?

_“I mean, I know it’s kinda annoying to have to read the whiteboard instead of hearing the answer outright.”_

He shakes his head. _“If I’m not dumb, then whiteboards are good.”_

No dumb kid would be able to tell me something like that. Kid, you’re gonna surpass me someday. When you do, mark the sky so I can show everyone.

  


* * *

  


_“I’m telling you, this kid is gonna end up some kinda genius and everyone is gonna be like, “I told you!” even though right now people are acting like he’s got nothing going for him.”_

Keith’s face doesn’t alter. His features are soft and less guarded than usual. His shoulders are stiff, but he has to stay the same in some ways.

Our conversation has been a steady stream, but I’m really the only one talking. Keith doesn’t seem to mind, so I’m trying not to either. Besides, he knows I’ll gladly listen to him for however long he wants to talk. Right?

I dig my nails into my skin a little too hard as we pass the alley even though I know about the cutout. Just ‘cause I learned the truth doesn’t mean there won’t be something else in there; something less concerned with saving the universe.

“Does the alley freak you out?” Keith asks.

_“Why would you say that?”_

He shrugs. “You always tense up when we pass. Figured there was something going on.”

 _“Oh.”_ I didn’t know I was that obvious. I didn’t even know he was looking.

“Just didn’t think to ask about it before,” he adds.

He didn’t make fun of me for needing someone to walk home with me, so I guess I can tell him this much. Hell, I know one of his biggest secrets. He might as well have one of mine, just to make things equal.

 _“The easiest way to explain it is that I’m scared of the dark,”_ I text. 

“And the hardest way?”

 _“Well, that requires some backstory,”_ I reply. I’ve been talking so much already. It might be a bit much to throw all of this at him.

“We’ve got time.”

Apparently he doesn’t mind.

 _“Okay. Prepare yourself.”_ I take a deep breath for seemingly dramatic purposes, but I think it’s more to ground myself.

_“So when I was a kid my siblings and I would play outside a ton, mainly ‘cause my mamá needed us out of the house so she could breathe. Wasn’t really a big place.” I send that and continue with the next message. “One time it was just me and my sister Veronica in the park a couple blocks down. She said she was gonna go inside for a little bit and come back. Well, a little bit turned into a lot a bit and I was still hanging around outside._

_“As all children do when they’re left outside, they try something stupid. So I jumped off something kinda high and broke my arm. I think I was like 6 or something?_

_“I wasn’t far from the house, but I couldn’t exactly call out. They didn’t come looking for me until after dinner. There’s a lot of us so sometimes they forget when one of us is missing.”_

Keith stares at his phone as the messages show up, so he doesn’t look to me. I’m glad. I didn’t think talking about this would feel so gross. It’s like my heart and throat are constricting and vertigo is seeping in. It’s been a while since I thought about the cause of my fears.

“What are you actually afraid of then?” he asks quietly.

It’s like I can hear a voice go off in the back of my head that sounds suspiciously like my childhood therapist. _“I’m probably afraid of ending up in situations where I can’t call for help. That’s what a therapist told me once.”_

The ending of my story is greeted by the last steps of our journey to my apartment. We part, as usual, and nothing weird happens. Not this time.

At the same time as I’m checking my soulmark before bed ( _I wonder what it’d be like not to have to talk?_ ), I get a text from Keith.

 **Emo Boy: i think i get what you mean.**  
**Emo Boy: about the not being able to call for help thing.**

 **Me: Oh?**  
**Me: Do explain.**

 **Emo Boy: i’ll explain it better another time, but it’s like when parents hurt their kids. the kids can’t do anything about it because there’s no one to believe them.**  
**Emo Boy: sorry. i know that’s morbid.**

 **Me: It is.**  
**Me: But it’s also true.**  
**Me: So you’re not wrong.**

**Emo Boy: yeah.**

I’ve never had to be alone my entire life except for one moment that changed everything.

What about you, Keith?

  


* * *

  


I’m editing our essay for the third time and it finally looks the way it should. All it needs is Keith’s stamp of approval. We’ll see if emo boy is willing to relinquish his perfection crown to let me have my moment.

I go to text him the good news, but something stops me. He’s coming over tomorrow. Might as well talk to him about it then. I know he doesn’t have to come over to approve it, but it’s always better to do things in person. I don’t trust negotiations over text.

Yeah. I’ll see him tomorrow. That’s a better plan.

  


* * *

  


I don’t wait in my room this time ‘cause I don’t need any other mishaps in this apartment. I already know about Keith’s soulmark, but I just as easily could’ve walked in on him _using_ the bathroom. Seeing one of the sources of his brooding is much preferred.

He texts me to let him up and I take the stairs two-by-two from the fifth floor. We have an elevator, but it’s always broken. I can’t tell you how many times some group of students decided to jump right when it started moving only to get stuck for a few hours. Hence why no one can use it.

He’s in the lobby, looking like every other student in this place: winter coat, dark jeans and even darker circles, phone in one hand and earbuds trailing from one ear. You could pin him as some hipster who only cares about coffee and music, but you’d miss the actual picture.

 _“Let’s go,”_ I text him.

He searches for me for a second and when he spots me, he follows my lead.

Once we’re in my room and the door is shut, I tell him the good news.

_“Soooooo guess who finished the paper early???”_

“You’re shitting me.”

 _“Nope!”_ I tap the send button on my laptop and he receives an e-mail with the essay attached.

His eyes skim over the work and a smirk eventually grows on his face. Oh God. What did I do wrong this time? I swear I checked that thing over and over again. There’s no way I did it wrong. Wasn’t he the one who told me to do it ‘cause he can’t? He’s the judgiest judge to ever—

“Looks like we’re done then,” he unknowingly interrupts my thought process.

A grin grows on my own face. It’s the first time he’s actually acknowledged that I might be good at something academically. Score for me.

“Wait, couldn’t you have texted me about this?” He drops his bag on the floor at the end of my bed and sits down next to it. It’s his study spot while he’s here.

_“I just did.”_

He scoffs. “You know what I meant.”

He’s not wrong. I could’ve. _“Just wanted to tell you in person. There a problem with that?”_

“No, but you could’ve saved me the trip.” He’s not getting up to leave.

_“Weeeeeell, sorry. You’re here.”_

“Alright,” he huffs, pulling his laptop out of its sleeve. “Then as compensation you’ve gotta watch something with me.”

He opens up Netflix and types something into the search bar. When he picks the title, I know exactly what I’m getting into.

_“Nonono. Nope. I am not watching cryptid documentaries.”_

He gives me a kind of crazed look. “You’ll believe if you just watch.”

I click my tongue. _“I’m not believing shit.”_

“If someone had told me we weren’t working today, I could’ve been watching it myself,” he pouts. “I haven’t seen it yet, so just watch it with me.” He pats the carpet next to him. I mouth protests, but take a seat. I’m still a good distance away.

“We can’t both see if you’re over there.” He beckons with his hand.

I scoot closer, but apparently it’s not enough. It gets to the point where our arms and legs are pressed right up next to each other. He’s colder than I thought he’d be. He really is sensitive to temperature.

Not the problem, Lance. Real problem: he’s sitting way too close. We don’t need to be this close to watch something I don’t even care about in the first place.

I watch an entire episode on _chupacabras_ and honestly, I’m a little freaked out. Hopefully they don’t exist anywhere near here. I bet they wouldn’t like the cold. They can stay in Puerto Rico.

“So?” He turns to look at me and I can’t return the favor. He’s too close. I can feel his breath on my face from here. It’s sweet, oddly enough. Kinda like honey.

 _“It wasn’t that bad,”_ I admit.

He raises his arms over his head and almost knocks into mine. “I knew you’d like it!”

Everyone has a part of themselves that’s still the same as when they were a kid. Apparently even Keith has his. His eyes are bright and his smile is wide, as if the world is still full of wonders no one can ever adequately explain. He looks like a kid that never knew he would be without a soulmark, without something that assures you that you’ll always be loved by someone.

So we keep watching, and watching, and watching...until we realize it’s one in the morning and every light outside is gone.

He looks tired out, but the shine is still there. When he thanks me, it feels wrong to tell him that he’s welcome. He doesn’t need to thank me for this one.

My soulmark that night brings me equal amounts guilt and happiness. I don’t know why I should feel guilty. Maybe I’m insane or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't tell, _Ender's Game_ and _Ender's Shadow_ are two of my favorite books of all time.
> 
> SO HOLY CRAP I GOT PAST THE 500 KUDO MARK!!! Thank you guys so much! I love reading your comments and I like replying to every one. Makes my day every time.
> 
> This week was crazy because it was my first time in a classroom in like...eight months? I took a semester off and now it's hitting me hard. It's cool though. I missed it in a way.
> 
> Now I'm off to write chapter 6 because we have soooo much to talk about.


	6. Bacchus Sidus

“Can you hear me over there?” Vero asks through the video screen on my laptop.

I throw her a thumbs up. I didn’t know it until just now, but I missed talking to her more than anything. All of the events of the past month and a half pour out, even the bits I probably shouldn’t say. I can’t help it. We don’t lie to each other about anything. If she asks, I tell, and vice versa.

“So this Keith kid sounds interesting,” she says, a smirk on her face. I haven’t even mentioned the part about the soulmark. I don’t know what she’s getting at.

 _“Why are you saying it like that?”_ I sign.

She shrugs and taps something into her keyboard. I don’t receive a message, which means she’s probably talking to a friend right now. I give her a look of disapproval and she holds her hands up in defense. She continues on with her question.

“You talk about him a lot. I haven’t heard you talk about someone like this since Nyma.”

_“This is nowhere near the same thing and you know it.”_

Of all the people in the world, Nyma had to be my first love. I don’t hate her, not anymore, but she just...didn’t do much good for my self-esteem. She even had me hoping my soulmate was a girl just so it could be her. I have this habit of thinking ahead too far too fast and I didn’t see the red flags: making it so I couldn’t see previews of texts on her lockscreen, casual lies, and overall treating me like I was second best. Wasn’t long before I found out about Rolo.

I lost it. I was constantly trying to figure out what I did wrong and I wanted to make up for it by trying again. I’m lucky she said no every time. She was all wrong for me.

No matter what, I can’t deny that I loved her. I don’t even have a crush on Keith, so I definitely can’t love him. It’s not the same thing.

Vero entangles her fingers together and places them beneath her chin as a perch. “Whatever you say. Still, I wanna hear about what else is going on. You said he has a weird thing about soulmates?”

 _“Yeah,”_ I admit. _“It’s a long story, but…”_ I trail off. She waits, but I don’t think I can say it. Of all the people to keep a secret from my sister for, I didn’t think Keith would be one.

She nods her head slowly in understanding. “I can tell this is important, so I won’t ask for details. Yet.”

I won’t be surprised when she picks me apart like a vulture with its newly deceased prey. I’m just glad it won’t be today.

“Okay, so can you tell me anything else about him?”

I give a small wheeze to replace short laughter thinking about Keith’s little victory pose yesterday. _“He’s super into cryptids.”_

“No.”

_“Yes.”_

She pushes the heels of her hands into her eyes and groans. “You’re trying to get with a conspiracy junkie.”

_“Why does everyone think I’m trying to get with him?!”_

She grins. “Other people are saying it, too?”

Vulture.

 _“Just one other person and she’s just as_ loca _as you.”_

It’s not my fault Keith and I got partnered together. It’s not my fault he showed up right when I needed someone to walk me home. It’s not my fault he got me to watch a cryptid TV show until one in the morning.”

Okay, maybe that last one is my fault.

Point is, I hang out with him a lot, but it’s not like I forced it. It just happened. After this essay is turned in, he won’t come over as much. Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t think we need as much time together to finish the assignments, so meeting at Altea for an hour or so will be the norm again. Normal is good.

“Where’ve you gone, space cadet?” Vero calls from the other side.

I stick my tongue out at her. _“Nowhere, Earthworm.”_

It’s not the best comeback, but hey, I made up the nickname when I was a kid. Can’t blame me for trying.

“All I’m saying is that you should consider it.”

Sometimes I wonder where I learned to push people. Then I talk to Vero and I remember.

 _“Alright, alright.”_ I gesture to the screen. _“Let’s talk about you. How’re things at home?”_

She sighs. “A disaster, as usual.”

My heart clenches the tiniest bit. _“What happened?”_

“We’re fine. Mamá just put a little too much stress on her knee the other day, so we’re picking up the slack for her. I didn’t know how much she does around the house until I started helping out. The others make sure to help out too, but Luis and Lisa have the kids, and Marco and Rachel are swamped with their PhD work.”

I’m stuck on the part about Mamá being injured. _“How bad is her knee?”_

She motions for me to calm down. “She’s fine. Doctor said she just needs to keep off it for a bit. It’s just strain. She’s fine, space cadet.”

I know Mamá is getting older, so things like this are gonna happen, but she hasn’t had problems up ‘til now. I can’t help the churning 

feeling in my gut and the lightheadedness at the idea of not being there when she needs me. I’m too far away.

“Did I tell you I met a guy?” she spits out. I don’t just want the subject change, I need it. Soulmate talk isn’t nearly as daunting, believe it or not.

_“And? Do you think he’s soulmate material?”_

She sticks her tongue out through closed teeth. “Maybe.”

My cheeks are burning from the strain of smiling, but I have a reputation to uphold here.

_“Then I guess I better grab mine up soon ‘cause there’s no way you’re beating me.”_

She clicks her tongue. “If you find him before me, I promise you I will stand in front of our entire extended family and announce your soulmate so they can see that I am the last single McClain-Sanchez sibling.”

_“Don’t promise shit you’ll regret.”_

I hear the sound of a door clicking open to her left. Or I guess right. Vero’s right, my left.

“Tía Vero?” a small voice calls out.

She swivels around to face my nephew, Leó. His real name is Silvio, but trying to call him anything but the King of the Sahara doesn’t sit well with him. His sister Nadia used to ask us to call her Leó as well, but eventually she figured out it only confused everyone. She stuck to her own name after that.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Vero coos. “Everything okay? It’s bedtime.”

He wanders into frame and rubs his eyes. I know it’s only been a couple months, but the Power Rangers PJs he got this last Christmas don’t fit him properly anymore.

“Mamá and Papá aren’t home, but I want a story.” He perks up a bit when he notices my face on the screen. “Tío Lance?”

 _“Hey kiddo.”_ Vero translates for me.

He climbs into her lap and leans in to see me better. I doubt it’s helping him much, but it’s cute. “Will _you_ read me a bedtime story?” he asks.

I give a smile that’s more like a twitch of the lips. Sometimes he forgets that I can’t. I wish I could. I never got to be part of their bedtime routine because of it.

“How about Tío Lance tells the story with his hands and I’ll do the words?” Vero suggests.

He nods his head which is currently nuzzled into her shoulder.

It’s a story I’ve heard a thousand times, so I know the signing for it by heart.

It’s the tale of two lions from different prides. Both of them are the only lions without a mate, so they go on a journey to find theirs. There’s obstacles on the way like a lioness that approaches as a mate for one lion, but he declines. She’s not his mate. There’s another obstacle that plagues the other lion, which is an odd patch of skin where fur should be. It drives the other lions away. Eventually they reach each other and decide they’ve found their mate. Their prides celebrate and become one.

“And everything was all right again,” Vero finishes.

Leó’s head drooped around the middle of the story and now he’s dead asleep in Vero’s arms.

“I have to put him to bed,” she whispers.

I nod. _“I’ll call you again soon. I promise.”_

“Better have more to tell me about Keith.”

 _“Bye!”_ I slam the end call button.

I’ll have no information next time ‘cause there’s nothing going on between us. Not one thing.

  


* * *

  


I printed our essay last night at a time I’m not disclosing. Why? Because Keith screwed up my sleep schedule and now I feel like dying every time I remember how much sleep I didn’t get last night.

Everyone in class knows the drill now: drop the paper up front and let Coran handle the rest. My brain’s functioning enough to remember that.

I text Keith before sitting down. _“I’m thoroughly regretting that documentary.”_

He smirks. “What? Scared the chupacabra is gonna get you?” He says it like choo-puh-ka-bruh.

 _“First of all, that’s the worst pronunciation of a Spanish word ever.”_ I bump his shoulder and his chair tips over a bit, requiring him to steady himself with the table. _“Second of all, I can’t be scared of something that doesn’t exist.”_

He chuckles and leans in close to whisper in my ear. “I’m pretty sure there was a sighting around here recently.”

No. Fucking no way. That can’t happen. They’re in Puerto Rico and they’re gonna stay in Puerto Rico. It’s too cold up here. They can’t withstand the cold, right? Oh shit. What did the documentary say? Remember remember remember.

He snorts next to me and I realize my thoughts are showing all over my face. I’ll say it now and I’ll say it again: I have no poker face.

I flick his arm and cross my own, focusing my attention to what Coran’s writing on the whiteboard. I’m too tired for this shit.

There’s a tiny bite of pain in my neck.

_“Keith, tell me you didn’t just start shit you can’t finish.”_

He tries to remain stoic and feigns an innocent voice. “I didn’t do anything you can prove.”

Oh it’s on. A flick to his leg gets me one to my arm. Another lands on his cheek and then I’m being attacked behind my shoulder.

It doesn’t take Coran long to figure out what we’re doing.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d save your war efforts for after class,” he chides.

We both grimace at each other and return to being the good noodles we’re supposed to be.

One more flick to the back of my neck.

I have to cover my mouth to keep the smile from coming through. I can see Keith next to me biting his lip. Asshole.

  


* * *

  


_“So. Very important question.”_ I take a dramatic pause. _“What do you do besides read sci-fi and show up your teachers?”_

Kinkade sits up a bit in his chair, having lost any semblance of good posture over the course of our session. _“This isn’t Ender’s Game related.”_

I tilt my head almost to my shoulder and smile. This kid. _“You’ve been sitting in that chair every week for five weeks and yet you have no interest in talking about something that isn’t school? What are you?”_

He shakes his head. _“Classified information.”_

It’s so weird knowing he jokes with me. All these people in my life have gone from the quietest individuals in the world to the most talkative. Apparently the gift of gab is contagious.

_“Okay, so here’s a better question: who’s your Valentine this year?”_

Oh man. He may be dark, but I’ve seen _Cubanos_ across the color spectrum blush. Can’t hide it from me.

 _“There’s a girl…”_ he trails off.

_“If you stop there I swear to god.”_

He lowers his hand as if to tell me to simmer down. _“Her name is Nadia, but I call her Rizzie because her last name is Rizavi,”_ he explains.

_“You have plans?”_

_“Just taking her out to dinner.”_

I nod, grinning. Look at this kid. _“You’ll have to tell me how it goes. I want nothing less than the best.”_

 _“I’ll keep you posted.”_ He returns a smile. _“What about your plans?”_

_“Working, of course, and then it’s a stag night for me. Just gonna treat myself.”_

Truth is, I haven’t had a Valentine’s date in a while. Nyma wasn’t the last one, but it’s not like I’ve had a ton of luck in that department. It shouldn’t bother me considering the only date that matters is with my soulmate, but it does. It’s one thing to know you have another half. It’s another thing not to have that half by your side.

Kinkade doesn’t notice my internal struggle, which is probably for the best. Don’t need him worrying about me when he’s out with a cute girl.

 _“Are you getting her a gift?”_ I ask.

He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a small, light yellow box. Inside is a simple golden necklace with a v-shaped symbol holding the two sides together.

_“Looks like you’re treating her right.”_

I don’t know how I can spend all of my time being proud and excited for this kid, but I do. I hope she’s his soulmate. Would make for a good story someday...and I’d get to be part of it which makes it a plus.

  


* * *

  


I drag my feet along what was once a sidewalk and what is now purely ice and icy slush. I’m trying to crack it apart so I don’t slip and crack something else. Keith follows behind, stepping where I step.

“Did you talk about _Ender’s Game_ at work again?” Keith asks. I don’t miss the interest in his voice. Unfortunately, I have to disappoint.

 _“We actually got a little off-track and started talking about Kinkade’s V-Day plans,”_ I reply.

It’s only after I say it that I realize maybe it wasn’t the best thing. I turn to gauge his reaction and slip in the process, causing him to grab my arm.

“I knew you were gonna do that,” he sighs and lets go. “And I can tell what you’re thinking and no, Valentine’s Day doesn’t bother me. It’s kinda sweet.”

Keith just said the word “sweet”. Someone call the FBI ‘cause there needs to be a full-scale investigation on the identity of the man beside me.

 _“You ever celebrated with someone before?”_ I tread lightly just in case. He claims a lot of things don’t bother him and yet he still cares.

He shakes his head. “Wasn’t really interested and my foster parents weren’t ones for celebrating. Plus it didn’t help that I figured out I’m gay right around high school.”

I frown. _“1) Why would your foster parents not celebrate and 2) that’s rough buddy.”_

He laughs in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone respond to me saying, ‘I’m gay’ with ‘that’s rough buddy’.”

I text back quickly. _“I just meant that coming out in high school sucks.”_

He flicks me where my hairline meets my neck, AKA the only place my hat and scarf aren’t guarding. “I know what you meant. And to answer your first question, I switched houses a lot and didn’t have a lot of good ‘parents’.” He puts air quotes around the last word.

_“How bad?”_

“Well I’m not dead.”

_“You are the most morbid motherfucker I know.”_

He gives a wan smile that I’m sure was meant to be genuine. “I know.”

Alright, this can’t stand. No one should go their whole life without celebrating Valentine’s Day. It’s a cardinal sin. He needs to know what it’s like to be swept off his feet. I know the perfect person for the job.

_“I usually just treat myself on V-Day, but I’m thinking I’m gonna spare a little cheer for you.”_

He raises an eyebrow. “What does that even entail?”

I bow. _“Just let me handle everything.”_

Even if I could, I wouldn’t take him on a date. He can experience that one with someone else at some other time. What are the other basics again? Chocolate, flowers, and a gift. Easy enough.

 _“What’s your favorite candy?”_ I ask.

“Skittles,” he responds without hesitation.

Alright. Not a chocolate guy. I can work with that.

“You really don’t have to do anything. Shiro always buys extra candy so we can ‘mourn our single lives’ as he says.”

_“Nonono. That’s not even the same thing. Shiro has ruined you. I’m fixing this.”_

He pulls his scarf up to his mouth to protect himself from the chill. His face was looking a little pink before.

“Whatever you want.”

_“Exactly. You’re about to experience the McClain charm, my friend.”_

He falls back into step behind me and I only slip twice before being back in the safety of my apartment.

  


* * *

  


I’m surprised and somehow relieved when I get Keith’s usual Wednesday text of, _“I’m here.”_ I didn’t know how things were gonna go after the essay, but he’s still coming over like we never finished it in the first place.

I’m almost at the door when I notice—

“Stop.”

I turn slowly and find Pidge crossing their arms and glaring daggers. Pointy daggers. Very very pointy daggers.

_“Heeeeeey Pidgeon. Just picking up Keithy boy from downstairs.”_

They keep their arms crossed and don’t bother looking at their phone. It’s like they know nothing I just said is gonna resolve whatever they’re pissed about. Either they’re a genius or I’m bad at hiding things. Definitely both.

“Would you like to explain to me why you’ve been lying?” they ask, their voice low.

Oh shit. How did they find out about the soulmark? I don’t know how to fix this. Shit.

_“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was my place to say.”_

They check their phone this time and sigh. “I doubt Keith would’ve minded if you told us.

I think he would mind a ton. _“He’s just not really comfortable with it. He’s barely comfortable with me.”_

“I know. You two are so stiff. I guess it’s kinda how I started out with Romelle.” They go settle on the couch with their laptop as if they didn’t just try and succeed at interrogating the shit out of me. “Dating a new person is strange.”

Oh my fucking god what.

_“WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK WE’RE DATING!!!!!!!!”_

They tilt their head. “You’re not? Then why is he always over here?”

Did I not explain that he’s here for class? I feel like I did. I really do. I think everyone is either insane or I’m living in an alternate reality where I didn’t tell everyone because I swear I did.

I place my hands in prayer position and line them up with my nose, taking a deep breath. _“Physics. Class.”_

“I know you guys were watching cryptid docs until one in the morning.”

Everyone has some sort of intel network besides me and it’s getting really freaky.

_“That was one time.”_

“You sounded like you were having fun.”

_“It wasn’t completely boring.”_

“You like him.”

_“I like hanging out with him.”_

There it is.

They cackle. “You may not be dating, but you’ve got it bad for each other.”

My phone buzzes and Keith’s name pops up again. The red message preview says, _“Hello?”_

I click my tongue. _“I’ve gotta go. Don’t say shit when he gets here.”_

They cross their heart and make the motion of slitting their throat.

I don’t have it bad for Keith. I don’t have anything for Keith. Keith and I are just hanging out. They’re just confused ‘cause I hated him at first. People change. I can have him as a friend and it not be anything more. Besides, I know the guy and if anyone’s less interested than me, it’s him.

I drag him upstairs and plan to shove him into my room, but Pidge gets to him first with a “Hi, Keith.” He twists out of my grasp and goes to join them.

“Please explain to me why he’s like this?” he asks.

“I ask myself that question all the time,” they snark.

So close.

“So I heard you were watching cryptid docs without me, _Keith_ ,” they accuse. He isn’t phased. It’s almost like that little ball of intimidation doesn’t affect his psyche.

“Would you feel better if we watched some with you?” he suggests.

“Oh hell yes.”

 _“Waitwaitwaitwait,”_ I send to the group text. _“Don’t I get a say?”_

“No,” they say simultaneously. They high-five without looking at each other.

_“Don’t we have an assignment to do?”_

“You and I both know we finished ours. We can check them later.” His laptop somehow appeared during the few seconds I was looking down at my phone. “Right now it’s cryptid time.”

Keith hits play and I’m in for another two hours of the uncomfortable theories that posit something is coming to get me that isn’t human. It’s not like I had enough fears of being alone in the first place.

Only a couple minutes in and Hunk walks through the door. Oh buddy, you’re a lifesaver.

“Hey, guys!” he greets. Is it possible for an entire body to vibrate? Hunk definitely looks like he’s vibrating.

I start another group text to include Hunk. I could sign, but honestly with two non-signers in the room, it’s easier not to.

 _“Too much coffee?”_ I joke.

He grins. “I asked Shay out.”

_“YOU WHAT??????”_

Pidge and Keith look to each other with equally confused faces.

“Who’s Shay?” Pidge asks.

_“WHO’S SHAY?????????? ONLY THE GIRL HUNK HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH SINCE FIRST SEASON.”_

Everyone looks at me weird. I check what I wrote.

_“Sorry. First semester. Autocorrect.”_

Hunk blushes and waves a hand at me. “Stop, stop. I’m not in _love_ with her. I just have a feeling that she’s—”

_“She’s said your words multiple times and you still don’t believe it’s her.”_

He rubs the back of his neck. “I just don’t want to tell her she’s my soulmate and then it turn out to be a coincidence the whole time.”

“Wait, you think it’s a coincidence that she said your words multiple times?” Pidge cuts in. “It took Romelle and me one day before we started doing the whole dating thing.”

_“Dating thing.”_

“Shut up.”

“So while these two get ready to kill each other, I assume you’re going out for Valentine’s Day?” Keith asks, surprising everyone. We don’t comment on it, though. They may not know about the soulmark, but they know Keith’s attitude on romantic stuff isn’t exactly positive.

“Yep! I’ve got the restaurant booked and everything.”

Oh man. If he’s got a restaurant booked then it’s serious. He may seem like the kinda guy to cook for a date, but I know him better than that. When he wants to impress someone, he refuses to cook for them. It’s something about how he gets too nervous to make anything edible. I haven’t had the displeasure of being on the receiving end of his nervous cooking, but from the stories I’ve heard, it’s nothing fun.

_“So Hunk is out for V-Day with the girl of his dreams.”_

“Stop,” he repeats, but less seriously.

“What about you and Romelle?” Keith directs his question at Pidge.

They give a smug smile and push their glasses up. “She’s got something planned and won’t tell me. Knowing her it’s something weird.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

They sigh contentedly. “It’s the best thing.”

I wrap my arm around Keith and pull my seductive face complete with suave grin. _“Well I guess it’s just me and Keith tomorrow. I’ll make him swoon harder than the both of you combined.”_

All three of them drop their mouths open.

_“What?”_

“I fucking called it,” Pidge whispers.

I remove my arm from Keith realizing exactly what I just said and did. _“Forget I said that.”_

“Oh hell no it’s staying on my phone forever.” I hear the snap of an artificial camera shutter.

I climb over Keith, kicking him in the stomach, to tackle Pidge. No one else can read that out of context. It sounds weird. I should’ve explained first. I’m so bad at explaining. Now it sounds so so so so bad.

I almost have the phone, but before I can grab it I spot a name and a string of texts beneath it. The screenshot of the group text is sent...to Allura.

 _“PIDGE DROP IT,”_ I mouth.

My phone buzzes.

**Princess: so what was that about you and keith just being physics partners?**

I hiss and concede defeat. The only place I belong is on the carpet. Maybe if I lay here long enough it’ll grow on me and I can just be carpet.

“I’ve never had a Valentine so he claims he’s gonna show me how it’s done,” Keith explains, rubbing his stomach. “Trust me, it’s not an actual date.”

Somehow I feel relieved he said that, but also disappointed that he’s making a point to clarify.

 _“I’d be a lovely date thank you very much,”_ I send him directly and not through the group text.

He shakes his head and texts me back. _“Oh yeah we’re gonna have so much fun on our walk from your workplace to your apartment. What a joy.”_

 _“Oh shit that reminds me.”_ I first send the text to Keith and then I remember I need to send it to Hunk and Pidge as well.

“What?” Hunk asks.

_“I gotta go pick up some stuff for tomorrow. You guys mind babysitting Keith?”_

“They babysit you so I don’t know why I would be a problem,” Keith deadpans.

I slap his leg from where I’m lying and he nudges my stomach, prompting me to roll over and get out of reach.

Hunk and Pidge agree to watch him and I head out to find what I need for tomorrow.

There’s a flower shop called Balmera on the way to campus, so I can hit that up tomorrow before class. They’re open _early_ early. 

Wait. Ugh. That means I have to get up extra early for him. The things I do for V-Day virgins.

I can find Skittles anywhere, but what I really need to figure out is what gift to get him. I’d do candy jewelry or something as a joke, but honestly it’s a little too close to the real thing for my liking.

I wander into a department store and find a borderline destroyed sale display promoting wristbands. That’s a cute idea. Some couples get matching ones for each other. It’s sorta like promise rings. I guess Valentine’s Day would be the best time to do it. Maybe I can make it look like I’m buying one for my soulmate and get one for myself.

Or you know what else I could do…

I spot a black band with an abstract red lion pressed into the leather. It looks like one of those “tribal” tattoos except, you know, it’s supposed to be covering one up instead. Keith wears gloves to cover his wrist, but come springtime he’ll regret it. This could be better.

Is it weird to get him something like this? Probably not. Hopefully? Maybe? I mean, it’s just something that looks cool and covers up his lack of a soulmark. I’m not even getting a matching one for myself. Not a big deal. 

A couple of girls stare from a small couch in the shoe department. They turn to each other and giggle when I catch them. Oh great. Now I’m mouthing things to myself where people can see.

I grab it up and make my way to the nearest cashier that’s nowhere in sight of the two girls. My head judges me enough on its own thank you very much.

I drop by the CVS on my way back and stuff a giant bag of Skittles into the department store bag. It’s solid and logoless, so I don’t have to worry about hiding anything from Keith.

In the living room, the three of them are surrounding Pidge’s computer. They’re grinning, Keith is gaping, and Hunk looks like he’s trying not to puke.

 _“Uh. Guys?”_ I text. _“What are you doing?”_

“You wanna see what they think Wendigos look like?” Keith asks seriously.

I book it to my room and slam the door. Keith can stay as long as he wants as long as he isn’t showing me any more of his monster bullshit.

  


* * *

  


Balmera is your average flower shop in a way. It’s tiny and it has flowers. That’s about where the normality stops.

The flowers aren’t grouped by name, species, or color. Honestly, they’re not grouped by anything. They’re put wherever the owner feels like and apparently she changes her mind on a daily basis.

The way they do their bouquets is unique too. They don’t let you pick any of the flowers. I came in with Hunk once when he was trying to send some off to his mom and they asked him what flower he wanted. He chose a couple from around the store that he thought were pretty. Here’s the best part: not one flower in the bouquet was what he picked.

You don’t get to choose. When you suggest a flower, that’s all it is. A suggestion. They take the meaning behind it and create something they believe works best. In the end, Hunk was in tears over how gorgeous it looked with its shades of oranges, yellows, and greens.

I can’t imagine going anywhere else after that.

I take a deep breath of the scents of damp soil and all the flowers mingling together. You’d think it’d smell more like roses about now, but I don’t see a ton of them. Like I said, the flower choice is a suggestion. They’re probably not even taking rose orders unless you’re lucky.

A girl at the front is holding up one of the hanging plants and trying to attach it to a hook on the ceiling. She turns her head slightly at the sound of the doorbell ringing. “I’ll be with you in just a second,” she says through her effort.

She finishes with a small exultation and hops down from her step ladder, rubbing her hands on her already soil-covered apron. “What can I get for you?” she asks, her voice small but not weak. It’s not surprising considering her larger build.

I take out my phone and type out my message. _“I’m looking to make a bouquet for V-Day. Think you could help me out…”_ I take a look at her nametag before showing her what I wrote. My eyes go wide at the rigid words written on it.

I finish the message and frantically write a second one. _“YOU’RE SHAY!!!!!”_

She tilts her head and smiles politely. “Yes?”

I hold out a hand. She takes it with a grip rivaling the top CEO of any company. _“Hunk’s my best friend. He told me about your plans for today.”_ A bit of soil drops between us when we let go.

“Oh!” Her smile is much more sure now. “It’s nice to meet you! He’s constantly telling me about you and your shenanigans.”

_“That’s me alright.”_

“So I’m guessing you have plans today as well if you’re looking for a bouquet?”

I scratch the area right where my wristband ends. _“Not exactly. It’s for a friend that’s never celebrated before. Gotta show him how it goes.”_

There’s this slyness about her now I thought I could only expect out of Pidge and maybe Allura. “Which flower were you thinking?”

 _“This one.”_ I show her a photo of a clump of lavender flowers.

She furrows her brow. “Hydrangeas, huh? I have something way better for you.”

She’s off to work, picking flowers around the shop seemingly at random. I busy myself with reading the names of various flowers and plants: succulents, snapdragons, delphinium, and more.

She returns to the counter with an arrangement rivaling that of Hunk’s mother’s. Instead of the sunset, the majority of mine is white. One flower has numerous petals layered over each other in the shape of a half-sphere. Another is the shape of a rose when it’s fully open, but not quite if that makes sense. The last ones are small and clumped and I know they’re sometimes used to created variation amongst the big flowers.

There’s also one with a pink hue whose flowers run up the stem, kinda like a snapdragon minus the dragon shape. They’re kinda shaped like those...what are they called? Hibiscus I think? Yeah. That.

The last is not what I expected: a single red rose planted dead center.

_“I didn’t think you did roses on V-Day?”_ I write. This does not look like a platonic bouquet. Shit. 

__

“Do you not trust my work?” I’d think she was sorry, but I know that look. Pidge and I use it all the time.

I sigh. _“I do. I’m just worried about what he’ll think about the rose.”_

“Oh don’t worry about that. I’m telling you, it’s perfect.”

_“What are the meanings of the other ones? I don’t know anything besides lilies for death and roses for love.”_

“That’s a secret,” she fake whispers with a wink.

I can see why Hunk likes her.

I check the time. There’s no way I can get anything else made. I’ll have to go with it. Hopefully he won’t kill me.

I pay and thank her despite the dread spilling forth all over my body like UV paint. In the right light, you can see it plain.

Please don’t kill me.

  


* * *

  


_“Your flowers.”_ I lean over and present them to him with one hand behind my back, hoping I look confident instead of what I’d look like if my behavior filter stopped working. Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic.

He takes them hesitantly, but not suspiciously. More than anything, he looks impressed, which is accentuated by the fact that he’s nodding his head slowly.

“Did you pick them?” he asks, brushing a finger along one of the white rose-shaped flowers.

 _“Nah. There’s a place nearby that won’t let you pick no matter how much you beg,”_ I explain. _“They made it for me.”_

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of a personal gift?”

_“You’re not wrong.”_

Okay. Breathe. Things are okay. He didn’t kill me.

I can’t believe Shay did this. I don’t even want to know what the other flowers mean at this point. I’m not curious enough to give myself a heart attack.

The only other noticeable moment of class is when Coran looks to the two of us and smiles. Directly. At. Us.

This was such a bad idea. I should’ve skipped out on the flowers or given them to him later. Except I wouldn’t be able to take care of the flowers properly if I gave them to him later, so that wouldn’t have worked either. Yeah. Flowers: bad idea.

The walk to Altea is perfectly good. It’s hard to pretend Keith’s not carrying flowers from me, but I’m managing. It’s not until we get into Altea that I start to panic again.

Shiro and Allura work here. HERE.

Once inside I steer Keith towards a table that’s mostly out of sight of the barista bar. Shiro is one thing—he honestly might believe the flowers are from someone else—but Allura knows better.

 _“I’ll be back. What do you want?”_ Phase two of Valentine’s Day: buy him his favorite drink. Not a new thing for us, but I still have to treat him. God this feels so weird, but he’s a little more upbeat this morning.

_“You already know,” he states._

__

I wink. _“Yes I do.”_

I don’t know what his face looks like ‘cause I can’t look at him anymore. I think my nerves are fried and now I’ve resorted to flirting with everything that moves. Forget Keith killing me. I think I’m killing me.

Shiro crosses his arms and smirks upon my reaching the counter.

Oh no.

 _“So, flowers?”_ he signs.

Oh no.

 _“Not from me.”_ He looks unimpressed with my lie. _“If you properly celebrated this holiday with him none of this would’ve happened.”_

He chuckles. _“Of course it’s my fault.”_

He calls out our names to Allura and she’s on it. I have to get out of range of older brother. There are too many dangers here including the fact the he might kill me. Shiro may be a teddy bear, but this is his little brother we’re talking about. I don’t wanna risk saying the wrong thing.

When Allura hands me our drinks, she’s already smug.

 _“Oh come on! Shiro said something to you already???”_ I mouth. 

“Nope.” She pops the “p”. “You just confirmed my suspicions.”

I’d love to scream if that were possible. I can expel air from my lungs really hard. Does that count? I’d doubt it’d feel as good as screaming.

I hand Keith his drink and dig into my bag for his candy. _“Skittles for the cupid-depraved boy.”_

The packaging crinkles in his hands and the Skittles rustle around, hard sugar shells rubbing against each other. He turns it over and over as if it’ll change if he does it long enough.

_“What?”_

“You don’t know how to half-ass anything.”

I grin. I almost forgot why I was doing this in the first place. _“Whole-assing is my specialty.”_

He laughs at that. Really laughs. I don’t regret this at all and right now I only sorta feel like puking.

  


* * *

  


Most of the kids aren’t here tonight. Anyone in high school either has plans or want to pretend they do. I don’t blame them. Studying with a stranger on Valentine’s Day? No thank you.

Instead, the real moments of my night are during the walk home with Keith.

_“So???? Did I blow your mind???? Do you finally understand the spirit of the holidays??????????”_

He scoffs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve learned that I can get you to pay for all my shit if I can somehow make it a special occasion.”

_“Rude.”_

Today wasn’t anything super special, but it feels like I did something right somehow. I don’t know. It just feels good. Keith can’t say he’s never had a Valentine because of me and I’m also a damn good one.

It feels like I’m forgetting something, though. There’s one last part of this night that feels off. What was phase 4? I know there were four. Flowers, chai, candy, and...GIFT.

_“KEITH SHIT I ALMOST FORGOT.”_

“What?” he asks as I ruffle through my backpack for it.

I hand it to him with my left hand while texting him with my right. _“This.”_

He takes the band from me and examines it in the same way he examined the Skittles. This time though, he seems a little softer. Even his shoulders are relaxed which never happens. This is all a good look on him. A really good look.

I scramble to explain. _“I figured since it’s almost spring that you wouldn’t want to wear your gloves when it gets warm. This’ll be more comfortable. I made sure. Didn’t wanna get you something that chafes.”_

He undoes the strings. They weren’t tied up when I bought it because of the insane disarray of the display, but I tied them up myself for better presentation.

He hands it back to me and I know I failed. Ahhh this is what’s called going too far. Well, at least I know not to get him anything pertaining to his soulmark. This was dumb. Should’ve stopped with the candy. Shouldn’t’ve picked up the flowers. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve even suggested doing this. I—

“Help me put it on.”

I don’t respond and instead stare at his face. He repeats his request.

I take it from him and he keeps his arm outstretched. He slips off his left glove, his coat sleeve still covering where his mark would be. I glance around a few times before pushing it up. He takes a sharp breath as if I cut him, but lets me keep going until I have enough skin to put the band on comfortably.

I tie the strings by memory, but it’s harder doing it on someone else in a way. You have to account for not being able to feel how tight or loose it is. I don’t wanna cut off his circulation.

I make the last knot and back up to examine my work. I throw my hands out, palms up, and gesture towards him.

_“Isn’t he stunning ladies and gentlemen?”_

He twists his arm and tugs a little at the edges, probably to make sure everything’s secure. 

In the quiet of the night with only snow to give contrast to the world, it’s like I’m looking at a monochrome picture. Well, almost. It’s like those photos that are part monochrome, but the artist chooses to showcase one other color and only that one. In my view, it’s an abstract red lion.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

I think my heart stopped.

  


* * *

  


“Alright. That’s all for this class. Next week I’m giving you a belated Valentine’s Day gift. We’ll be talking about soulmates on Tuesday,” Professor Kolivan informs us.

My head perks up from where it’s rested on my palm and the class murmurs in excitement. Soulmates are something we don’t cover in school. Ever. This is a chance.

_This is a chance._

Next week I’m gonna talk to Kolivan about it. I need more information. Maybe it’ll give Keith something to hope for. Just maybe.

  


* * *

  


**Emo Boy: hey do you mind meeting at my place today?**

**Me: Yeah sure. What’s up?**

**Emo Boy: shiro’s out of town for work and i can’t leave kosmo home alone all day.**  
**Emo Boy: i’d ask allura, but she went with shiro.**

**Me: What’s a Kosmo?**

**Emo Boy: my dog.**

**Me: YOU HAVE A DOG?????**  
**Me: AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?????**  
**Me: ADDRESS.**  
**Me: NOW.**

 **Emo Boy: XXXX marmora way**  
**Emo Boy: so i assume you’re coming?**  
**Emo Boy: hello?**  
**Emo Boy: lance.**

**Me: Bring me to the puppy.**

**Emo Boy: i’m coming downstairs.**

Keith’s apartment is smaller than mine, but that’s not a surprise considering we have three bedrooms. He and Shiro share one.

The living room and kitchen have a counter as a room divider, making things seem slightly larger than they are. The living room isn’t too different from our own, but they only have space for a couch and a TV among other small things. We have room for a dining table as well.

Their kitchen is definitely too tiny and it’s made worse by the lack of organization. Who taught these boys how to live? They need serious help. Hunk is probably the best solution. I’m getting him in here stat.

Here’s the best part, though: the black ball of fur bounding towards me and knocking me down. Keith spews a string of apologies, but I don’t give two shits. He’s so fucking cute. He won’t stop licking me and I don’t care that I smell like dog saliva. He’s perfection.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him jump on someone like that. Not since he was a puppy,” Keith tells me once I’m able to sit up and pet Kosmo normally.

I scratch him behind the ears and he pushes into my hand for more. I can’t miss any precious time with the baby so I mouth things instead of texting. Hopefully Keith can read lips a little. _“He’s perfect.”_

He smiles, a father regarding his son fondly. “Hell yeah he is.”

 _“Are we gonna walk him? Please tell me we’re gonna walk him.”_ I realize I’m talking way too fast and expect Keith to ask me to repeat.

Instead he says, “He needs at least two walks a day, so we can walk him again later.”

I quirk an eyebrow and Kosmo takes that moment to knock his head under my chin. I push him back gently and give him the attention he deserves. _“You can read lips?”_

 _“Shiro and I used to do it when my foster parents were around. He was already good at it from when he was learning sign language. He’s way better at me at it.”_ He helps me up, to Kosmo’s disappointment, and leads me to his room. _“Good way to communicate when they weren’t in— _come up, boy—in good moods.”__

__

I can’t help but die at the fact that Kosmo’s first instinct is to crawl into Keith’s lap like he’s still a puppy. Keith winces a bit from the weight, but relaxes like he’s used to it.

I take out my phone since I don’t have to worry about Kosmo right now. Before I finish my message, he tells me I can keep mouthing things if it’s easier. It honestly is in a way. Plus, there’ll be less proof if I say something stupid.

 _“So, sorry if this is weird to ask, but were all of your foster parents in bad moods?”_ I leave off “all the time”.

“It’s fine.” He strokes Kosmo’s back. “Most of them were fine, but I kinda had ‘behavioral issues’ so they didn’t wanna deal with me after a while. Some just wanted the paycheck. Some wanted someone to order around.”

I know not to ask about what kind of things happened when they were in moods. He’d tell me if he wanted me to know.

 _“So is that why you consider Shiro your brother?”_ I ask. _“Because he stuck around?”_

“There’s a lot of reasons, but yeah, that’s one of them.”

_“Is another one of them that he let you have the cutest pupper in the world?”_

“Did you just say pupper?” 

_“Do you not?”_

He mumbles something. I urge him to repeat it. “I call him doggo.”

The wheezing starts up and I can’t stop. I have to lay down next to him on the bed to be able to breathe properly. Oh course Keith is a dork like that. I will always and forever believe pupper is the proper name for all dogs, but doggo is just as cute.

 _“Anyways._ Yes. I found him one day and hid him from Shiro for a couple weeks. He was mad for about two seconds until Kosmo nudged him with his nose. Best moment ever.”

I can’t imagine a tiny Kosmo ‘cause he’s a massive pup. I’d compare him to a wolf, but I don’t have one around to check for accuracy.

_“I love him.”_

“Good because you’re spending all day with us.”

  


* * *

  


_“Oh my god you are literally the worst human being,”_ I text him. It’s harder to mouth things when his eyes are glued to the screen.

“Oh my god you are literally the worst human being,” he mimics in a voice I know would never be my own. I’d sound way cooler than that.

I shift my legs a bit. They’re getting numb ‘cause Kosmo decided my lap is preferable to Keith’s. I don’t blame him. Keith gets vocal and especially expressive with his arms when he watches his conspiracies.

“That’s complete bullshit!” he yells at the inanimate object that is the TV. “That theory has been proven incorrect ten billion times and yet you’re still spouting this bullshit!?”

I poke him in the side and he flinches just like every time I’ve done it since we started watching. I think eventually he’ll learn to chill out if I do it enough times. Operant conditioning is such a great concept. Positive punishment is my favorite tool.

Kosmo jumps off my lap and I mourn the love. Come back to me~!

Apparently he needs Keith’s attention ‘cause he starts whining at his feet. That gets Keith to look away from his obsession long enough for me to swipe the controller and turn this shit off.

He side-eyes me, but gets up to grab the leash hanging from the wall beside the front door.

 _“Kinky,”_ I mouth. I was pretty sure he’d miss it, but the redness of his face tells me otherwise.

“Watch this.” Kosmo sits patiently at his feet, no doubt waiting for the door to open so he can burst outside. Keith’s voice goes up an octave when he unleashes the ultimate phrase. “Is it time for walkies?”

 _It is time! It is time for walkies!_ I imagine Kosmo declaring as he becomes a speed demon. I have to lift my legs onto the couch as he runs everywhere he possibly can.

Keith closes his eyes and doubles over when he laughs, something I haven’t seen before. He beckons for Kosmo to come. He lets Keith clip the leash on and I follow them out the door for walkies.

Watching a pupper with sensory overload is insane. Kosmo won’t stop stopping every time he smells something interesting. AKA he stops every ten steps or so. Keith at least doesn’t seem exasperated by it. No doubt it’s the norm.

_“Have I mentioned how perfect he is? Because he’s perfect.”_

“I would make a snarky comment about how you’ve said it a billion times, but no one could ever say it enough. He’s that perfect.”

Before now, I don’t know if I’d have thought that Keith having a dog makes so much sense. He’s the kind of guy that seems uncomfortable with physical contact, but I bet it’s just ‘cause people are unfamiliar. A dog, though? Dogs are perfect and give you all the love you need and they don’t have the same problems humans do. Seeing him cuddling up with Kosmo strikes me as right.

Kosmo does not want to turn around. He does not want to go back and miss out on all the squirrels and bunnies and foxes he has yet to catch. No way. Not ever.

He does go back, but he’s grumpy all the way home until he’s a few feet from the door. Then he’s excited ‘cause he’s familiar with his surroundings. 

_“I want your dog.”_

Keith is suddenly dead serious. “You take my dog and I will take everything you love from you.”

Apparently I will not be taking his dog.

  


* * *

  


_“Oh shit. What time is it?”_ I check my phone clock only to find out it’s 11 PM and it’s one hundred percent dark outside.

Keith sits up a little. “Oh right. I totally forgot.”

I don’t wanna ask him to walk me home right now. I should do it on my own. It’s a Saturday, so there should be people out. Then again, who knows. It’s not like we’re on the bar-hopping/clubbing side of town.

“You can stay here if you want,” Keith says.

Warmth coils in my gut and I have to hold back a shiver. Not trying to figure out what that’s about. _“I don’t have clothes.”_

“Just borrow mine. You can sleep in Shiro’s bed.”

Something tells me I shouldn’t do this, but I think I’m going to anyways for some reason. Jesus Christ there’s something wrong with my head and I can’t figure out what the fuck is going on.

 _“Do you even have anything that can fit me?”_ I joke.

“I’m not that short,” he bites back.

Just as I’m getting into bed, Keith removes the band I gave him on Thursday. I didn’t even notice it before. Now I’m more concentrated on that than his markless wrist.

 _“You’re wearing it,”_ I text him.

He looks down at the band and bites back a smile. “It’s more comfortable than the gloves, so I figured I’d wear it instead.”

Valentine’s Day was worth it after all.

  


* * *

  


Falling asleep is impossible like this. By all means I should be passed out considering it’s two in the morning, but here I am. Not sleeping.

 _“Hey. Keith,”_ I text.

I see his phone light up in the other bed. He groans and rolls over to get it.

“Can I ask why you’re trying to talk to me at two in the morning?”

_“Were you actually asleep?”_

He pauses. “No.”

_“Then there’s no problem here!”_

“Okay, so what do you want from me?”

_“Can we...play 20 questions?”_

He sighs and rubs his eyes. “Can I pass if I don’t like the question?”

_“Sure.”_

“Alright. Start then,” he mumbles just loud enough so I can catch his words.

I try to think of a starter question, something that won’t scare him into silence. _“Favorite color.”_

“Purple. You?”

_“Same actually.”_

Oh look we have something more in common than just _Ender’s Game._

“Uh. Favorite...drink?” he asks.

_“Easy. Horchata.”_

I can see the look of confusion on his face from the tiny bit of moonlight coming through the window.

 _“Rice milk with cinnamon basically. It’s insanely good,”_ I explain.

He nods. “Mine is Pocari Sweat. It’s a sports drink like Gatorade, but better somehow? I can’t explain it.”

Of course he wouldn’t go with something normal. That’s not his style.

I need a better question here. So far has been baby stuff. Time to amp it up.

_“Where’s your favorite place to go when you need to relax?”_

“It’s the karate dojo down the street from where you work actually,” he tells me.

I sit up. _“THAT’S why you walk by the club!”_

“I thought I told you?” He moves his arm so he can hold up his head with his hand while on his side.

 _“I would’ve remembered.”_ This changes everything. _“So are you like the karate kid or something?”_

He snorts. “You can see for yourself sometime if you want. They don’t mind visitors.”

I’m definitely taking him up on that one. Gotta see if Keith is as skilled at athletics as he is at physics.

“You?”

I can see it already. The smell of salt and various food carts on the boardwalk filling the air. Waves crash non-stop and at some point you forget they’re there. Then you look out and the splashes come rolling in your ears again. There’s the squish of wet sand so warm that I need the ocean to cool my toes.

 _“Ever heard of Varadero?”_ I’m still semi-lost in my fantasy. I can hear the ghost voices of my siblings screaming while running away from the water as it slides up the shore.

“No,” he responds simply.

_“It’s a little peninsula in Cuba. I used to go there during the summer to visit my grandparents as a kid. It’s got crazy incredible beaches that are unmatched. Trust me. I’ve been checking._

_“Oh god and the garlic knots. Now I’m hungry.”_

Keith hums. “Do you miss the ocean while you’re here?”

_“Constantly. It’s not the same.”_

The homesickness kicks in with a vengeance. I wonder if Marco and Rachel are doing okay in their studies. I hope Mamá is getting better.

 _“Your turn,”_ I manage to text.

It’s quiet for a while and I think maybe he’s asleep. I’m wrong when he borderline whispers his next words.

“What’s it like to have a soulmate?”

I turn my head to where he’s lying down and he’s staring at the ceiling. It’s marked with a couple of glow stars him and Shiro probably couldn’t get down. I say that ‘cause there’s only two of them and the rest of the room shows no signs of others.

 _“You sure?”_ I ask. I don’t wanna hurt him.

“Yeah.”

I try to figure out where to start. Once I find my place, it’s hard to stop. _“It’s a lot of things really. You know that someone out there is made to love you and technically they don’t have to. They just do. It’s exciting to be able to get to know them before you can even reach them. It’s scary too, though.”_ I take a shaky breath. _“You’re constantly wondering if they won’t love you and if the universe got it wrong. Sometimes his thoughts make me think that maybe I’m not worth him ‘cause he’s just...beautiful I guess? I don’t know. Something like that.”_

“You’re worth him. Trust me.”

Lance.exe has stopped responding.

Of all the words in the world, I didn’t think I needed to hear those five tonight.

_“So I guess I can only ask you what it’s like not to have one.”_

He nods and Kosmo snuggles further into him like he knows what Keith has to say is a lot. He’s even more perfect for Keith if that’s possible.

“I get angry about it a lot, like the universe is telling me I’m broken or some shit? I guess at the same time it’s like I have the freedom to choose, but...everyone has a soulmate, so who would choose the guy who doesn’t?

“I mean, it’s not like I don’t feel things for people. It’s not like I haven’t had a crush or five. I don’t know. It’s just a lot of feeling like there’s something wrong with me and there’s nothing I can do except accept it.”

There they are—the words he’s been holding onto the entire time he’s known me and no doubt long before that. They’re words I longed to hear and don’t regret hearing, but it’s hard to listen to. I’ve always had someone there that I know is going to be my whole life, but Keith doesn’t have the promise of anything. He’s not broken, though. Not by a longshot.

“You don’t have to say that,” he replies to words I apparently typed when I wasn’t paying attention.

_“I don’t have to say it, but I’m saying it anyways. Even if the universe made a mistake, it doesn’t mean you’re the one who’s broken.”_

He turns over to face the wall and disturbs Kosmo a tiny bit before he settles down again. “We should go to sleep.”

I don’t feel sorry for asking. I know it’s hard for him, so I don’t mind him turning away. He gave me more than I deserve, so I’m gonna hold on to what I have.

When I’m on the brink of sleep, I think I hear him whisper something, but I’m not sure what it is. Almost sounded like “thank you”, but he was probably talking to someone in his dreams. I don’t think I did anything to warrant a thank you.

Doesn’t stop me from mouthing a _“you, too”_ back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Flower Meanings**  
>  Gardenias: Purity, sweetness, secret love  
> White Chrysanthemums: Loyalty, devoted love  
> Queen Anne's Lace: Sanctuary  
> Gladiolus: Strength of character, faithfulness, honor  
> Red Roses: "I love you"
> 
> * * *
> 
> We broke the 600 mark for this fic and I'm stoked, yet again. You guys leave such kind comments. Sometimes I do get discouraged or insecure when it comes to my writing (as all artists do) and it really motivates me when you leave comments. So thank you all!
> 
> Now to work on chapter 7!


	7. Pull Me In

Oh shit. Whose bed am I in?

I’ve never had this problem. I don’t even remember the last time I thought about this being a legit problem. Yet here I am, having this problem.

I sit up to get my bearings and survey the plain white walls of the room that is definitely not mine. On the wall above the bed I’m in is a calendar with dates circled in purple and tiny notes in the margins. I inspect it closer and see that for yesterday’s and today’s dates, there’s a note that reads “Business Trip”.

Wait a second. That’s familiar.

I look to the bed on the other side—whose walls are wholly devoid of MCR and Bring Me the Horizon posters I might add—and the blankets are fitted nicely as if someone’s been doing it for years. My side, on the other hand, is a mess of clothes, pens, papers, and a couple plates that probably haven’t been washed for a couple days.

I slip out of the comforter and try to avoid stepping on anything too gross. I almost succeed until I feel a plate tip and crumbs sprinkle on my feet. I don’t care how hot Shiro is. He’s the literal worst.

I change back into my clothes from yesterday which makes my skin itch. Before I can wrap up my soulmark I notice the words written on my wrist.

_If you get too close I might lose it._

I don’t know whether that’s a good “lose it” or a bad “lose it”. Wait. Is there a good “lose it”? Whatever. All I’m saying is that I hope no one’s making him uncomfortable on purpose. Someday I’ll protect him from that kind of bullshit. Gotta seem like I’m actually worthy.

Last night Keith thought I was worthy.

I wrap the band as my cheeks start to burn with such severity my nerves feel like they’re strained to the core. I shouldn’t be thinking about Keith when I’m supposed to be thinking about my soulmate. They are mutually exclusive people and they need to stay that way.

I hear a muffled “shit!” somewhere beyond the bedroom door. I shake off a rogue t-shirt, not daring to touch it myself, and go to investigate. I hear the running water before I see Keith holding his finger under it in the kitchen. Kosmo is already on the scene, his head tilted upward in concern.

“Morning,” Keith greets as if he doesn’t have any pressing health concerns.

_“What’d you do to your finger?”_ I mouth. It looks red all around. From the items that are in and around the kitchen, he either cut himself with a knife or burned himself on the stove.

He winces when he turns off the faucet and rips a paper towel from its holder to apply pressure. “Just cut it. Not a big deal.”

Not a big deal my ass. Knowing him, he’ll pretend it doesn’t hurt and then carry on like it can’t get infected or the wound won’t open up again. I push forward to inspect the damage, urging him to open up the paper towel. The cut isn’t too deep, but there’s no way I’m letting him leave it like that.

_“Where’s your disinfectant and band-aids?”_ I ask, walking backwards towards the bathroom. As much as I don’t know where anything specific is besides Kosmo’s collar, I know most people are normal enough to put their med kit type stuff in the bathroom.

“Medicine cabinet,” he replies. “Seriously don’t worry about it. It happens all the time.”

I dismiss him with a wave of my hand. I can’t believe he doesn’t even want to put a band-aid on it. It’s gonna sting later and also, I don’t know, he’s cooking right now! I prefer not to have human blood in my food.

I find what I need easily and pick a blue polka-dotted band-aid instead of the regular kind. Cute.

I make grabby hands and Keith holds out his finger so I can fix it up.

_“First of all, do you actually use any of this?”_ I squeeze out a tiny bit of clear gel onto the pad of my finger. _“This thing hasn’t been opened.”_

“We used to when I got in fights as a kid, but now Shiro keeps an extra tube around just in case. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’ll start up again any day now.”

Sounds like my soulm—

Fucking-A. We talked about this, Lance.

I wouldn’t believe him about the fights, but after his reaction at the coffee shop that first time we met, I wouldn’t put it past him. _“Did you start them or end them?”_

“The fights?” I nod. “Sometimes both. Depends on how much I cared about what the fight was about.”

I snort. _“What a badass.”_

I try to hold his finger as feather light as I can and wrap it up, making sure not to get the sticky part on the cut. Vero used to make that mistake a ton when she’d bandage me up. She didn’t want Mamá to find out that we were doing stupid shit outside, so she’d do it herself. Needless to say we got found out. She fucked up bad enough for me to start wailing and that was the end of her medical career.

_“There. All better.”_

“You’re such a mom,” he teases.

_“And you’re such a boy,”_ I retort.

He flicks the back of my neck and gets back to greasing a pan. For someone whose kitchen is a breathing disaster—no I’m serious I’m pretty sure something just moved—you’d think he wouldn’t know how to cook. I tell him as much.

“Have you seen my side of the room?” he asks indignantly. “You can tell exactly whose fault this is. Before I moved in, Shiro barely had a kitchen and he definitely couldn’t cook.”

I push him aside before he can grab the knife and I get to cutting. I can handle a couple tomatoes. _“Wait, but he runs Altea. How can he be this bad at organization and—”_ I spot the trash can that’s overflowing in terms of contents and smell. _“—health standards?”_

“Allura is the reason that place hasn’t had to be fumigated.”

I didn’t think I could be more impressed with their teamwork, but Allura makes Shiro look perfect. I’ve been convinced for a while that they’re dating, but I’ve never gotten a chance to ask that isn’t awkward or inconvenient. Wait. Keith knows.

_“Speaking of Allura, is there anything going on with her and Shiro?”_

“If you mean that they’re business partners and Shiro is hopelessly gay, then sure. Something’s going on,” he replies. I’m about to invest in a sarcasm filter for him.

I think about hiding what I’m about to say, but I let him see me mouth it instead. It’s just too fun to bother him. _“So it means I have a chance.”_

He doesn’t even bat an eye. Boring. “You have zero chance with my brother. Besides, he’s been pining after this guy Adam for a couple years. It’s mutual, but like hell am I telling Shiro that.”

_“Why not?”_

He cracks a few eggs into a bright purple mixing bowl and beats them. “Because he needs to learn to handle his relationships on his own.” He points to the items I’ve been cutting. “Oh yeah, what do you want in your omelet?”

This is a serious question. The most important ever. I have the answer, but is he prepared to meet the challenge?

_“Everything.”_

He laughs. “So basically we’re having the same thing. Got it.”

The eggs hiss when they make contact with melted butter, and he sprinkles half of each pile of chopped ingredients over them. God. Eggs have never smelled so good. Well, Hunk’s are better, but I’m starving to death right now, so this is allowed to be a close second.

“But yeah. Shiro is the worst at handling his love life. He’s always asking me for advice and at this point I’m done trying. He needs serious help.”

I grin. _“‘Cause you’re the expert on relationships.”_

Fuuuuck. I didn’t mean to say it like that.

“Oh? And you are?” he responds playfully. I don’t know if he’s got insane control over his facial expressions or if that really didn’t bother him in the slightest. Either way, awkward situation avoided.

His tiny jab gets me thinking of Nyma and a few faces and names I can barely remember anymore. _“I know a thing or two.”_

“Enlighten me.”

Those are some...dangerous words. I mean, I’m not uncomfortable, but it gives me chills.

Back in the day I wasn’t exactly smooth with my words. I’m a man of action and that’s what the ladies—and presumably gentlemen—love.

_“Finish that and I can show you.”_ I’m not gonna do this while he’s still cooking. Not trying to cause another injury in here.

He scrapes the bottom of the omelet and slides it off onto one of the plates placed next to the stove. He turns it off, which is definitely for the best. “Alright. Show me.”

I move us so that I can get as much space from the stove as possible. Kosmo must notice what I’m doing ‘cause he backs out of the kitchen as well. I don’t need a ton of room, but again, injuries are no fun.

_“Here’s the way I seduced them.”_ They weren’t seduced for long, but he doesn’t need to know that. I take hold of his hand and smirk. Before he has any idea what’s going on, I raise our hands above our heads and twirl him. Once he’s facing me, I wrap an arm around his waist and pull him in just like I used to. Most people would forget how to do this properly after a while, but not me. I have my flirtation tools at the ready at all times.

_“That’s how I—”_ He’s not much shorter than me which puts him at eye-level. He’s a lot a bit closer than I intended. I can feel his breath fan across my face and for a second I get the most stupid thought of my life.

Instead of indulging it, I spin him out and away from me, making sure not to let go until his momentum slows. He stumbles a bit, but he stays upright.

I’m not panicking. I am _not_ panicking.

I clear my throat and turn on the stove for him. _“They couldn’t stand being away from me after that.”_

“I bet…” Keith trails off.

We make conversation like there’s nothing wrong, but I’m pretty sure everything is wrong. When it comes to Keith, there’s always something that keeps me from relaxing. He weasels into my brain without trying. Or maybe he is trying and I haven’t been paying enough attention. Intentionally or unintentionally, he’s a problem I don’t know how to solve. Not like a regular puzzle. No. He’s like a freakin’ Rubix Cube with no stickers. Honestly I don’t know what the specific problem is, but it’s always there.

Yeah okay part of that last thought is a lie.

After breakfast I head home so I can try to ignore the stupid guy with the stupid cut on his finger with the stupid polka-dotted band-aid.

  


* * *

  


_“So? How was the date?”_ I sign to Kinkade.

He shifts a little in his seat and bites back a smile. _“It was alright.”_

_“Dude.”_

_“She’s amazing.”_ His face softens and his smile comes through, fond and proud.

He goes on about the date, sparing no detail. He totally does it ‘cause he wants to and not ‘cause I’m hounding him every time he explains too little.

_“This is too perfect to be real. There’s gotta be a catch.”_ I lean back in my chair and wait for the slightly uncomfortable look on his face to transfer to his hands.

_“I totally missed when I tried to kiss her.”_

_“What?”_ I snort. _“That’s such a normal problem.”_

He gestures around vaguely and then actually signs something I can read. _“I kissed her ear.”_ I wheeze, granting me a couple looks from the other tables. _“She freaked out and covered it like I suddenly turned into the creepiest date in the world.”_

Oh man. Stoic Kinkade turning into this little mess of a high school kid is the best. He looks like every part of his being started producing some kind of dormant energy just from the thought of her walking by. It kinda reminds me of how Luis and Lisa look at their kids. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they look at each other like that, too, but not with the same intensity. If Rizavi doesn’t see that, then she must be ignoring it.

_“After you kissed her ear what happened?”_

His fondness beats out the embarrassment long enough to expel it completely. _“She laughed super hard and when she finally stopped, she said, ‘Ryan, if you’re not my soulmate after this, I’m gonna get pissed at the universe.’”_

_“Is Ryan a nickname?”_

He tilts his head. _“No? It’s my real name.”_

No. He’s Kinkade. He’s always been Kinkade. I’m pretty sure he’s Kinkade. I’ve been signing his name for weeks. There’s no way I’m wrong.

_“But...Kinkade?”_

_“My last name. It sounds better than Ryan so that’s what I tell people to call me. Rizzie just likes to be special.”_

Everything I’ve ever known is wrong. I don’t know where I am. Am I even me? Am I even on the same planet as I was before? This is the craziest thing to ever happen in the history of crazy things.

_“Your name has been Ryan this whole time and you didn’t tell me?!”_ I try to sign fast without screwing up the words too much.

He holds his stomach and wheezes. _“You guys have rosters, right?”_

He’s not wrong, but it’s not like I look at the thing. I call the kids by whatever they tell me they want to be called and that’s it. I let other people handle the actual papers.

_“You’re never gonna let this go are you?”_ Kinkade asks because I am not calling him Ryan that’s stupid.

_“Nope. You’ll always be Kinkade. Sorry.”_

_“I mean, I intended for you to call me that, so it works out.”_

Everyone in my life has turned on me in one way or another. Will anyone ever be true to me? Kosmo, you are my only friend.

  


* * *

  


Keith laughs in disbelief. “How did you not know his first name?” he asks, bringing my mood down again. I get it. I’m an idiot.

_“Our first day he told me his name was Kinkade, so I just ran with it.”_ I huff. _“It’s not like he told me and then I forgot.”_ I’m pretty sure I have a good enough memory to know that much.

Keith hops over a puddle. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did forget.”

I shove him with my shoulder and we get into a full-on shoving war, almost landing one of us in the street. By one of us, I mean me until Keith catches my arm and pulls me in like I did to him yesterday.

_“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,”_ I mouth, smooth as can be.

He pulls me harder than necessary and lets me go when I’m safely on the sidewalk. I hope for the sake of my heart that the cold air soothes my burning body before I have to look at him again.

  


* * *

  


_“Pidge. Hypothetical question.”_

“Hypothetical answer,” they reply, eyes laser-focused on their screen. Midterms are coming up relatively soon, so no wonder they’re studying early. Although, I did hear a tiny ping or two from some chat client going off before they muted it. They’re so weak for their girl.

_“What if someone didn’t have a soulmark?”_ I continue.

They glance over at me, confusion crossing their features. “Do you not have a soulmark?”

_“Nonono. I have one,”_ I text. _“I was just wondering if it’s possible not to.”_

“Well,” they take a second to think, “I can look it up and see what I can find.”

Their fingers race across the keyboard as if they’re not typing anything specific at all. It’s like those hackers in movies that you know for a fact are typing randomly. It only takes them five minutes before they consolidate their information.

“So it’s possible to not have one, but there’s not a lot on it. Everyone has their own theory, but not a ton of them seem plausible.”

Interesting. I never did check for people’s theories. _“What do you have?”_

They scoot towards me to let me see the screen and the laptop’s fan blows hot against my leg. “Some people are saying it’s because their soulmate is unrequited, but based on the information we have, there’s no way that’s true. Then there’s…” they click onto another tab, “This person thinks that it means there’s no soulmate at all.”

I already knew that one. It just seems too wrong to believe. There’s gotta be something else that explains all of this.

_“Anything else?”_

They close their other two tabs and the browser is then filled with several paragraphs on a blog that needs some serious aesthetic maintenance.

“It may not be helpful, but this guy has a theory that’s pretty interesting.”

I skim through the writing and Pidge does the same. He doesn’t focus on thought soulmarks, but spoken soulmarks instead. He claims there’s a possibility that someone may not have a soulmark ‘cause their soulmate is mute or deaf.

Why does that give me insane butterflies?

“Fascinating.” Pidge shifts away and returns to their original task. “I’ll have to look that up later and let you know what else I find. I never thought about the possibility of not having a soulmark.” They look to me. “Mind telling me who your friend is? I have questions.”

I shake my head hard, a momentary sharp pain causing me to stop. _“Hypothetical, Pidge. Hypothetical.”_

They look unconvinced, but ultimately don’t ask me anything else. I’m lucky they’re busy. I need to keep Keith’s secret better. They’re just as nosy as Hunk except they don’t need to read your diary to figure out your deepest secrets. They’ll know eventually. Maybe I should pretend to be the one without a soulmark. I could make sure they don’t see it and pretend that all my soulmate musing was just overcompensation. I’m sure Hunk will back me up.

With the info I have now, I’ll be able to start a conversation with Dr. Kolivan about the theory. If someone can’t talk and their spoken words are supposed to be projected, there’s no way words can show up. Maybe Keith’s soulmate is deaf or even mute.

Maybe I know him.

Is it weird that I don’t want to know him? I don’t know. I just know that I don’t want to find his soulmate for him. He can do that on his own. It’s none of my business. None.

  


* * *

  


“We believe soulmarks are an evolutionary adaptation to a world in which people were finding partners they were wholly incompatible with,” Dr. Kolivan explains to the class. “We’re not completely sure as there’s no way to investigate the mark itself as it is only a tattoo on the skin and does not appreciate being tampered with.

“We are connected through invisible, for lack of a better term, strings that manifest in the image of our soulmarks. Some cultures may refer to this as the red string of fate, but the existence of platonic soulmates deters experts from using the name as the red string is solely a romantic bond.”

Everyone’s hands go up as they have every single time he finishes a slide. We’ve never had the chance to ask any teachers or professors for answers like this, so it feels like it’s now or never.

“So why is it that people can have an unrequited soulmate?” a girl I think is named Fatima asks. “If the strings are invisible, then shouldn’t they be unable to be disconnected?”

He nods. “There are many ideas on that, but I subscribe to the belief that bonds can change and the strings shift in accordance. They are not necessarily “cut”, but rather they connect with another individual albeit in a less intense and less visible way.”

Kolivan looks to his watch for the third time in the last ten minutes and signals for everyone to put their hands down. “That will be all for today. If you have any burning questions on the philosophical or theoretical science aspects, you are welcome to discuss them during my office hours.”

I walk slowly and wait for most of the students to filter out before I can ask the one question I need answered. I don’t think he’ll shoo me away, but there’s always a chance. Mental preparation activated.

“Yes, Mr. McClain?” he questions when I approach. He stops organizing his papers into his folder and leans on the table behind him.

_“I just have one quick question,”_ I type and hold up the screen to his level. I don’t think I really noticed this before, but dude is hella tall.

He crosses his arms and waits for me to keep going, so I do.

_“Is it possible for someone to not have a soulmark due to their soulmate being unable to speak?”_

His eyes widen the slightest bit. He clasps his hands together and they’re now settled in his lap. “Well that’s an interesting question. It does have a simple answer, however.” When did I stop breathing? “Only thoughts are projected when a soulmate is unable to create speech. The bonds may be wrong at times, but they don’t seem to be that cruel.”

I give a strained smile and mouth a _“thank you”_. As I’m about to exit to the hallway, thoroughly defeated, he calls me back.

“Somehow I don’t think you’re just asking for yourself, so do you mind if I ask why you’re curious?”

I shake my head. _“No reason.”_

Another theory thwarted. Another reasoning gone. Another day where Keith doesn’t know what the hell is going on and I can’t help him. Another example of how I can’t be his—

Nope. Wrong thought. Erase. Erase erase erase.

  


* * *

  


For once we’re all working. Legitimately working. No banter, no insults, no talking at all. Even I can’t help but focus ‘cause _fucking midterms._

I can’t even cuss this whole situation out ‘cause I can barely think about anything but the difference between schizophrenia, schizoaffective, bipolar I, bipolar II, and literally every other disorder my textbook could fit. I kinda get it, but the symptoms are swirling around in my head and mixing together so that everything is one big disorder. It doesn’t help that I’m now confident I have every single one.

“Fuck this,” Pidge growls. Both Keith and I look up from our work, too drained to say anything intelligent.

“Are we taking a break because I don’t think I’ll survive this class if I do,” Keith replies in monotone.

_“I second that,”_ I type painstakingly slowly.

Pidge gets up and stretches their entire body with no sign they’re listening to us. “I’m taking a break. You losers go work in Lance’s room because I’m playing Eve and I am not putting headphones on.”

Keith and I both groan, but mine comes out as more of a huff. Now we have to pick up the notes sprawled across the couch, carry them to my room while also _walking_ , and find new comfy positions where we won’t fall asleep. This is gonna go so well. So so so well. Pidge, you’re the worst.

“I am not the worst, Lance, and it would be a good idea to take that back.”

Oh my god they’re reading minds now what the fuck. Alright. Room it is. Ugh. I might die today. Walking. Here we go. I mouth a _“let’s go”_ to Keith and we somehow survive the trek. I’m only unable to breathe for a couple minutes. Fuck you, Pidge.

Okay I apologize but still. I’m dying.

Keith plops down onto the floor and leans back against the side of my mattress. “Fuck. Okay. Maybe they have a point.”

Honestly he’s not wrong and the temptation to take a nap right here is too much. Alright. I have to at least stay awake. We can talk about something instead of working. Anything that isn’t psychology or physics or history or any academic subject that’s killing my brain.

_“How much will you hate me if I tell you something I found out about soulmarks?”_ I text. Even if I wasn’t tired, I wouldn’t regret asking him questions about this anymore. As long as I’m not pushing him, he doesn’t seem to mind.

He angles his head toward me. “I’m not going to hate you.”

_“I mean are you gonna get pissed?”_

He sighs in exasperation, but there’s a hint of a laugh somewhere in there. “Just tell me.”

I type and retype my text. We haven’t gotten in depth about this stuff minus the other night when we talked about having and not having a soulmark. I know I don’t have anything substantial here and maybe I shouldn’t tell him something that doesn’t give him hope, but somehow I feel like he needs to know I asked.

_“We were talking about soulmates in my psych class and I asked my professor why someone wouldn’t have a soulmark.”_ He starts to protest, but I shush him. _“I didn’t name names. He probably thinks it’s me. Anyways, he told me that even if your soulmate were deaf or mute, their thoughts would still be projected. So you can at least knock that off your list.”_

I turn to him and he sits up straighter than before. “Why did you ask that?”

Oh man. I knew it. _“Well I guess you’re pissed.”_

“That’s not—” He groans and places a hand over his eyes for a moment. Then he places his arms on the mattress and pushes himself up a bit to look me in the eyes. “Why did you want to ask that specifically?”

I quirk an eyebrow. _“Pidge and I were talking about the concept in general—don’t worry they don’t know either—and the theory came up. I just wanted to check,”_ I mouth. God he really needs to back up.

“You could’ve just asked him why people don’t have them, but you asked about mute people. Why?”

_“Deaf people, too.”_

“Lance.” His voice is too serious. The tired guy from ten minutes ago is replaced by someone brimming with interest and energy. There’s something flickering in his eyes, begging me to give it what it wants to keep it stable. I don’t know what it wants, but it’s starting to make me itch.

_“I just wanted to ask.”_

“For who?”

_“What?”_

“Were you asking for me, or for you?”

My breath hitches and for the life of me I can’t explain why. _“I was curious.”_

“And that’s all?” Something is telling me he’s disappointed, but that’s unacceptable. This cannot continue.

I grab his cheeks and stretch them out like I used to do with my cousins when they irritated me. Then I push them together so he looks like a human guppy.

_“Say, ‘I am a guppy’.”_ I mouth, trying to keep a straight face.

“Wance.”

_“Ah ah ah. That’s not the phrase I’m looking for.”_

He tries to sigh but it comes out as a puff of air from his nose. “I am a guppy.”

I feed him the next line. _“And guppies can’t talk.”_

“And guppies can’t talk.”

_“But I’ll try.”_

“Fuckin’—I’ll twy.” I let go and he rubs his cheeks. “Happy?”

_“Ecstatic.”_

The questions he has for me are imprinting themselves onto his features, but he stays quiet. Instead he gets back in his spot and closes his eyes for a bit, energy depleted for his foreseeable future.

I’m thankful for him understanding what it’s like to wanna leave things alone. I shouldn’t have to explain to him that I’m just curious about his mark or that I just wanna give him some hope for once. I definitely can’t say that last part out loud. It sounds...wrong.

Honestly, I’m starting to think maybe this wasn’t just for him and it’s a little for me, too. Maybe I feel guilty about him not having a soulmate. Maybe some part of me wants to make sure my soulmate knows I’m out there. Just in case.

There’s this little worm implanting itself in my brain that’s giving me a thought that I don’t know how to process right now. Not with him right here. I have to save it for later and I do. I do until I’m staring at my soulmark in the dark of my bedroom, letting the red wash over me.

_Couldn’t you be mine?_

__

  


* * *

  


“You have an hour and a half to complete your exam,” Coran announces. “Begin!”

I studied this. I got this. Keith even helped me out with the parts that make no fucking sense in the first place. I look to him and he gives a small smile in return.

I can totally do this.

  


* * *

  


_“You okay?” Kinkade asks from his side of the table._

__

I think we were talking about _Ender’s Game_ last time I checked, but I’ve been zoning out since this morning. After Coran’s and Zarkon’s exams, I’m completely burned out. Even Keith looked like he was on the verge of passing out. I hope he skips karate practice just for today. He needs it.

_“Just tired. You’ll understand when you get to my old age.”_ I grin and clap him on the shoulder.

He gives a small wheeze. _“Oh by the way, can I ask you something?”_

_“Shoot.”_

_“Who’s that guy you were walking home with?”_

I raise an eyebrow. _“How do you know about him?”_

Kinkade’s session ends way before the end of my shift, so he shouldn’t be around when Keith shows up. He should be at home doing his homework like a good child.

_“I forgot something a week or so ago and had to drop by to pick it up,”_ he explains, the smirks. _“You guys looked pretty cozy.”_

Literally everyone on this planet doesn’t know how to read us. We’re not dating. We’re not anything. Friends. We’re friends.

So why do I need to justify that to myself?

_“We’re friends…”_ I drop my hands before I can continue. There’s no good way to talk about this. I don’t know how to talk about this, much less with a high school kid who isn’t yet having problems with his new girlfriend.

He crosses his arms and mouths, _“What do you want to be?”_

I look up to the ceiling. _“I don’t know.”_

Maybe it’s better if I don’t try to understand.

  


* * *

  


“You’re quiet for once,” Keith interjects into the night.

I shrug. After that conversation with Kinkade, there’s way too much to think about. Having the source of my issues standing next to me is just making it more frustrating. It’s not his fault, but it is. I’m not supposed to be doubting any of this.

Keith is Mr. Cool Guy. Keith is way too smart for his own good and doesn’t study properly. Keith is into cryptid docs even though it’s all obviously bullshit. Keith shuts down and won’t let anyone in ‘cause he’s too stubborn to understand that people want to help.

Keith is a lot of things.

He’s also a proud dog dad. He walked me home even when I was acting like a dick. He likes chai lattes ‘cause he has a sweet tooth he won’t admit, but I can see his eyes glisten at the sight of a good-looking cake. He makes me worry about what he’ll think, but he always surprises me with words I didn’t think he could ever say.

Maybe that’s why I’m confused. I’m confused ‘cause he’s this complex person I can’t help liking despite all the bullshit we’ve gone through. I think I’m just misinterpreting things. He’s an attractive guy and he happens to be gay. I’m feeling this way ‘cause I’m entertaining the idea. It’s not serious.

He juts his neck out to look at my face and I swallow. “Everything okay?”

I pull the best smile I can manage and it doesn’t feel completely strained. _“Everything’s good. Just thinking about how dumb your documentaries are.”_

He becomes stoic and looks away like a child who doesn’t understand how you can be so stupid. “You’re just so blind to the truth that you can’t open up to the art form that is cryptid documentaries.”

I snort. _“What are you, me? That’s the most elaborate and overdone sentence I’ve ever heard you use.”_

“I know. I should really stop hanging out with you.”

_“You probably should.”_

This is just what we are. We’re friends, but for once I should at least admit this: I have a crush on him.

It doesn’t have to mean anything, though. Besides, it’s not realistic for me. He’s him and I’m...me. It works out better if he’s not obligated to deal with all my shit on top of his own. I’m not the best at helping people out. Honestly I’m typically the one causing problems.

He’s also not my soulmate.

Even if I wanted to make something happen, which I don’t, I know that fact is in the way. He may have a soulmate we can’t identify and I know it’s not me. Dr. Kolivan said so. I wouldn’t make a move on him even if I could.

None of this stops me from walking just the tiniest bit closer on the way home.

  


* * *

  


**Group Chat: burninglove, sharpshooter, treehacker**

**Group Name Changed to “Post-Midterm Self-Care”**

**burninglove: i decided we should all get together on sunday.**  
**burninglove: midterms killed my soul and i need food to replenish it.**  
**burninglove: i don’t have everyone in my contacts, so can you guys add the others?**

**sharpshooter: Hunk, my man, my love, my life.**  
**sharpshooter: You are my savior through and through.**

**burninglove: <3**

**sharpshooter: <3**

**treehacker: Lance has to do most of the work.**  
**treehacker: I only have Romelle and Keith on my side.**

**sharpshooter: On it.**

**Group Members Added: cowparsnip**

**Group Members Added: lavenderessence**

**Group Members Added: ineedhealing, alteanqueen, xsamuraix**

**ineedhealing: What’s going on guys?**

**burninglove: hey shiro!**  
**burninglove: i was thinking we’d all get together this weekend for a potluck.**  
**burninglove: lance and pidge are already in.**

**lavenderessence: oh that sounds perfect!**  
**lavenderessence: anything you want me to bring, sweetheart?**

**treehacker: Anything you bring will make me happy.**

**sharpshooter: You guys are gross <3**

**lavenderessence: .3.**

**cowparsnip: I would like to be there as well.**  
**cowparsnip: I have never had Hunk’s cooking before.**

**burninglove: oh.**  
**burninglove: yeah.**  
**burninglove: that’s a thing.**

**sharpshooter: What Hunk means to say is that he’s excited to cook for you.**

**alteanqueen: i’ll have to check my schedule.**  
**alteanqueen: checked.**  
**alteanqueen: i may have time to spare for you all.**

**xsamuraix: what is going on.**  
**xsamuraix: i just got ten billion notifications.**

**sharpshooter: There aren’t even that many.**  
**sharpshooter: Also what is with that username?**  
**sharpshooter: I never asked.**  
**sharpshooter: The x’s look like that thing emo kids used to do to their usernames in middle school.**

**xsamuraix: i haven’t used this since i was in high school.**  
**xsamuraix: sue me.**

**treehacker: There have to be pictures.**  
**treehacker: Tell me there are pictures.**

**ineedhealing: Oh.**  
**ineedhealing: There are pictures.**

**xsamuraix: shiro i swear to god.**

**ineedhealing: Those pictures are priceless treasures and they need to be shared.**

**Group Members Added: stillalive**

**stillalive: umm. hi?**

**xsamuraix: so what was that you were saying shiro?**

**ineedhealing: Not one word.**

**stillalive: :?**

**ineedhealing: Don’t worry about it.**  
**ineedhealing: He’s just being a brat.**

**stillalive: that’s our keith.**

**xsamuraix: i think this got worse.**  
**xsamuraix: how do i kick…**

**sharpshooter: Wait.**  
**sharpshooter: Who’s stillalive?**

**treehacker: Me**

**xsamuraix: me**

**alteanqueen: me**

**burninglove: me**

**sharpshooter: Stop.**

**lavenderessence: me!**

**ineedhealing: Me.**

**sharpshooter: Guys.**

**stillalive: i’m pretty sure i’m the only one this actually applies to…**  
**stillalive: but me!**

**cowparsnip: Me.**

**sharpshooter: OH MY GOD.**  
**sharpshooter: WHY DO I KNOW ANY OF YOU.**

**burninglove: lance is about to go on a rant, so before he can…**  
**burninglove: if you’re coming, tell me so i can write it down.**  
**burninglove: you can tell me what you’re bringing later.**

**treehacker: I live with you.**  
**treehacker: Lance’s busy silent-screeching, but I think he’s saying same.**

**lavenderessence: i wouldn’t miss a moment with my darling’s friends.**

**cowparsnip: I also believe it would be enjoyable.**

**alteanqueen: i’ll have to look up some of my father’s recipes.**  
**alteanqueen: just a little taste of home for you all.**

**ineedhealing: I don’t know.**  
**ineedhealing: We do have the shop.**

**alteanqueen: we’re closed for the day.**

**ineedhealing: I guess we’re closed for the day.**  
**ineedhealing: Are you coming too, Adam?**

**stillalive: it sounds interesting.**  
**stillalive: i’ll be there.**

**sharpshooter: Keeeeith.**

**lavenderessence: he’s alive!**

**sharpshooter: We need your answer.**  
**sharpshooter: Noooow.**

**xsamuraix: i don’t know if i can leave kosmo home alone for that long.**

**sharpshooter: Umm.**  
**sharpshooter: Did you think you weren’t bringing him?**  
**sharpshooter: He better be here or you’re uninvited.**

**xsamuraix: does your apartment even allow dogs?**

**sharpshooter: ...unimportant.**

**burninglove: you can bring your dog, dude.**  
**burninglove: lance told me how cute he is and i need to see him.**

**lavenderessence: pidge.**  
**lavenderessence: you never told me keith has a puppy.**

**treehacker: I only found out a few days ago.**

**lavenderessence: i’m only forgiving you because you are smol and adorable.**

**sharpshooter: Again.**  
**sharpshooter: The grossest <3**

**burninglove: alright!**  
**burninglove: send me what you’re planning on bringing soon.**  
**burninglove: see you all on sunday!**

  


* * *

  


_“We never finished our game of 20 Questions,”_ I text Keith. He’s typing away at his computer and it’s been half an hour since he’s looked at me much less talked to me.

He sighs, but shifts his body toward me. Yessss.

“Whose turn was it?”

_“Umm.”_ Once I remember our late night soulmate conversation, it’s obvious. _“I guess it’s mine.”_

“Is it actually yours or are you taking advantage of the situation?”

_“It’s mine. Scout’s honor.”_ I cross my heart.

“Alright. Go then.”

We already got into a deep talk about soulmates, so I don’t have to keep things entirely tame. Keith did say he’s “had a crush or five” so I definitely wanna know what it’s like to date without a soulmate. Just shouldn’t ask it in the usual stupid way.

_“Alright. Who was your first kiss and did it suck?”_ I ask. That’s good. That actually doesn’t sound dumb as hell. My mouth is working for once.

He runs his fingers through his hair and tucks his knees into his chest. “Pass.”

No way. No way Keith “Cool Guy” Kogane doesn’t want to talk about his exploits. Soulmate or not, it’s not like everyone knows he doesn’t have one. He should’ve had someone come his way. I don’t know what to say that doesn’t sound mildly insulting so I nod my head and plunge ahead into my own story.

_“Well I was in the sixth grade and Jennifer Green kissed me on the swingset. It was very romantic. Then she broke up with me an hour later. Worst heartbreak of my life.”_

He laughs at that. Good. I was a little worried there when he passed.

I wait for Keith to ask his question, but instead his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. I didn’t think we had to be thinking that hard about this.

“Okay actually, can I tell you something?” Keith asks.

_“Shoot.”_

“So you know how I never had a real Valentine’s Day?” I nod. “I kinda haven’t kissed anyone. Period.”

I mean, I know he’s socially crippled, but there’s no way he hasn’t at least kissed someone.

_“You mean the guys weren’t all over your mullet?”_ I mouth, sitting next to him on the floor in his little spot at the foot of my bed.

He shoves my shoulder, almost managing to knock me to the floor. “Can you be serious for once?”

_“Alright, alright. I’m being serious.”_ A beat. _“So are you asking me if I’ll give you that experience too?”_

I’m looking at him, but I wish I weren’t. I shouldn’t’ve said that. I’ve been making things weird for weeks and now I had to go and say that. There’s no way to take it back. I start mouthing whatever I can. _“Wow that sounded really wei—”_

“Okay.”

I’m hearing things wrong.

_“You sure?”_ I should be making a joke. Why am I not making a joke? This isn’t what I want. My stomach is freaking out on me, but my brain is worse because somehow it’s excited about this. Stop it. Stop being happy.

He nods and turns his head to me. We’re so close that it wouldn’t take much to reach his lips.

Lance. Stop.

_“Alright. Just stay still for a second.”_

Stop.

I reach out and cup his chin in my hand. He melts into it and I wanna die right here. He’s cute. I know that. I just didn’t want to let myself think so.

Stop.

I lean over and hesitate right before my lips can touch his. Some semblance of myself is raging for me to stop and it’s starting to die. It’s losing strength as if it’s the one that can’t speak instead of me. Another part of me is screaming go go go! It’s reaching a crescendo, my ears pounding from the imaginary sound.

I tilt my head slightly and give in. It’s brief and shouldn’t be making me fritz out like this, but it does. It really does. I want to lean back as far as possible, but I can only manage a few inches away.

He licks his lips and his eyes flicker between mine and my eyes.

“Can you show me one more time?”

Go go go!

I kiss him a little harder and he asks again. And again. And again. I can’t help but give him what he wants. This is intoxicating in the worst way possible and I don’t think I hate it.

Eventually closed-mouth kisses aren’t enough. I don’t know who opens up first, but my heart speeds up a thousand miles per hour when we’re moving against each other. He’s rough, but I don’t mind. His gasping makes up for it.

I scoot closer to him to get a better angle and damn if that didn’t somehow make this perfect. I place a hand on his waist and pull him closer so that there are only centimeters between us. He shudders when I run a finger up his spine.

He runs his hands up my chest and one ends on my shoulder and the other slips behind my neck. Finally they’ve found a spot that isn’t at his sides. His cold touches are perfection ‘cause my entire body is a furnace waiting to combust.

The swirling in my head won’t allow me to stop and instead I’m filled with voices telling me to kiss him, pull him closer, don’t stop. All I want is Keith Keith Keith.

He pushes me away. I huff at the loss of contact, but suddenly it’s dawning on me. I just kissed Keith. In my bedroom.

It’s his first kiss.

I should not feel proud of being his first, but I can’t help wanting to bring him back into me. I need more.

“I’m an idiot,” he whispers, somewhat crab-walking backwards so he doesn’t hit me on his way up.

Oh.

He’s turned around the entire time while he packs up and refuses to look at his phone. I can’t touch him to get his attention. I don’t know if he’ll break right here and now. I’m not sure I won’t.

He’s been gone for enough time to be home by now and yet I’m still sitting in his spot wondering what the fuck I did to end up with his lips on mine and what the fuck I’m supposed to do about it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely didn't just find out a couple weeks ago that Kinkade's name is actually Ryan. Nope. Definitely not true.
> 
> You guys have no idea how long I've been sitting on all this information. Now it's out there for y'all to either enjoy or lament. Yay!
> 
> Alright, just a tad of bad news: I will have to change my updating schedule to every two weeks. I think with school and work it's a good amount of time to produce the same quality of work I've been giving you guys so far. You guys have been so kind and supportive about me taking a week off last week and I hope you guys don't mind the new schedule for the time being.
> 
> All this being said, I loved writing this chapter and I'm glad I got another week to work on it. I'll make sure to give you all the fluffy bits soon~
> 
> See you next chapter!
> 
> Random Note: Oh hey if you guys didn't know I have a Tumblr. I barely use it, but I'll probably be more active since this has a bit of attention. Here's the link: [Tumblr](http://teddykrueger.tumblr.com)


	8. Limbo

Part of me feels bad for saying this, but I slept incredibly well.

Instead of insomnia and delving into nightmare after nightmare about the look on his face, instead I relive the dreamy memory. His kiss, his touch, his noises, all echoing in my head. The dream ended with us still kissing, refusing to let go despite what it might mean for our friendship. I wish that part was real.

Being awake and stuck with the fact that that’s not my reality is the impossible part. Not only did I go back on the whole “I’m not gonna do anything ‘cause he’s not my soulmate” thing, but now I don’t know if he’ll face me again. He hasn’t responded to my texts or agreed to meet up before Monday. I’m hoping things will get fixed up like they always do, but who knows how much I screwed up.

I admit it. Maybe I should’ve stopped after the first kiss and most definitely the second one. I just...couldn’t. His voice was so so so intoxicating when he asked me to show him again and again. His participation in it didn’t give me any cues to stop, but maybe that’s ‘cause he’s horrible with confrontation. Well, if you could call making out confrontation.

I’m not sure what I’m freaking out about more: that I kissed someone who absolutely isn’t my soulmate or that I kissed Keith specifically. For some reason, the first part strikes me as more acceptable in comparison.

And that’s fucking terrifying.

I dig my fingers into my bedsheets and silent scream, for once thankful that my yelling won’t alert anyone. Which parts do I _want_ to fix and which parts do I need to fix? I don’t know how to answer any of that if Keith won’t talk to me.

__

__

For now, staying in bed is preferable. I don’t need to bring my bad mood down on Hunk and Pidge. I’m sure they have their own problems to worry about without my whining.

There’s a gentle knock at my door, but I don’t shift my focus away from the small hole I made in my ceiling that we never got around to filling.

“Hey buddy?” Hunk calls. “Mind helping me prep for dinner? The others won’t be here all that soon, but we—”

I fly out of bed and yank the door inwards. Hunk flinches and steps back in surprise.

_“What do you mean, ‘the others’?”_ I sign, making sure to accentuate the part about other people being in the apartment today because _I was not aware of this._

He furrows his eyebrows and his tone takes on an ounce of concern. “The potluck is tonight.” No. “We invited everyone over?”

My limbs are frozen. Everyone, including Keith, is coming over later. It’s only been a day. Barely that. I have to pretend to be okay for hours while he’s standing _right there._ I’m sure by now that the entire group already thinks there’s something going on and now I have to make sure not to prove them right. I have to lie and lie and lie when all I want to do is build a blanket fort and eat mint chip ice cream.

I may want a conversation, but with everyone around? No thank you. I haven’t thought past him responding to me. _Hey man, sorry I kissed you like that. Hope you don’t hate me. Oh yeah and I want to do it again, but ya know. That’s just me._ Mouthing that is the way to guarantee that things go towards the worst case scenario. Worst case scenario being death by Keith.

This is so stupid. I’m so stupid. I should’ve stopped it. I shouldn’t have joked about him wanting to kiss me. Me and my stupid impulse to joke about anything and everything. You know, someone should just put a muzzle on me and put me—

“Lance? You’re overthinking something,” Hunk interrupts.

_“I kissed Keith.”_

“Oh shit.” We stare at each other in silence until Hunk, being my favorite person in the world, drags me by my upper arm into the kitchen. “As much as I’d love a five hour sit-down with you, we need to cook dinner. Talk while we work.”

I tell him about Valentine’s Day, the walks home over the last few weeks, the new realization that I have an insane crush on him (“Hate to break it to you, but we all guessed that one.”). I try to keep certain details out ‘cause I’m sure Hunk doesn’t want to know, but I fail to keep the kiss entirely vague. I can’t help remembering how he felt on my skin and my lips and my chest and how I just want him back.

_“So the first thing I’m gonna tell you is that it’s gonna be okay,”_ Hunk assures me, then salting a bubbling pot of uncooked pasta. _“The second thing is that you need to talk to him before this gets worse.”_

I gawk at him. _“How am I supposed to do that?!”_

He looks back to me with pity in his eyes, but there’s a dominance in his stance that says that his decision is final. _“I don’t know how you’re gonna do it, but him saying ‘I’m an idiot’ and bolting sounds like a major misunderstanding, so you gotta figure it out. From what it sounds like, he doesn’t know how to talk, so you need to help him out.”_

_“What makes you think that I know how to?”_

His laughter is a muted boom and he speaks out loud. “Remember what you told me when Shay said my words for the first time and I refused to talk to her?”

I hiss in exasperation. I do remember.

_“‘If you don’t take this chance, you risk your soulmate being unrequited,’”_ I recite from memory. _“But Hunk, this isn’t the same thing. He’s not my soulmate.”_

_“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re in denial about that one.”_

I lean against the counter and scowl. _“Trust me. He’s not.”_ This wouldn’t be as big of an issue if he was.

He gives me a once-over, probably contemplating whether or not he needs me to explain that bit. I save him the trouble and tell him not to worry about that part. Doesn’t matter what’s happening between me and Keith. His secret is our own.

Hunk pats me on the back as gently as he can, which is pretty dang gentle. I don’t know how he does it. _“You should still talk to him. Even if he’s not your soulmate, dude sounds like he needs your help figuring this out.”_

I nod and get back to chopping carrots and broccoli for the vegetable platter Hunk’s putting together as one of the appetizers. I’ve always found working with my hands to be therapeutic. Hunk caught onto it last year. Whenever I was in a mood, we’d cook together and things would somehow be alright. It also helps that it reminds of home.

“So how long do I have to wait before I can taste test?”

A wild Pidgey appears in the archway, their eyes still slightly dead from midterms. They decided to take six courses this semester and are no doubt regretting it. They’re smart, but there’s only so much energy a person can have.

Our conversation about my internal dilemma over, Hunk switches over to speech and I pull out my phone, carefully avoiding the group chat with Keith in it. 

“You can taste test in half an hour,” Hunk says. Pidge attempts to snag a carrot from my cutting board, but Hunk raps their hand with his stirring spoon. “Half an hour. Do you two even hear me talk?”

We look to each other and grin. Then we both shake our heads in unison.

He sighs. “Alright. Both of you _out_.”

_“Fine.”_ We scuttle out of the kitchen and into the living room. Oh sweet sweet seating, _te adoro_. I drop onto the couch and breathe deeply.

I can’t help fidgeting. I don’t have anything substantial to do with my hands anymore, so I throw my phone up a little and catch it. It’s not doing much, but I guess it’s doing something.

“You kissed Keith, didn’t you.” Pidge states, a smirk inching its way onto their face.

Alright, I know for a fact that Keith wouldn’t admit shit. Were they spying on us? They don’t even like that kind of stuff. Do they? I don’t think I wanna know.

“Your silence is all the confirmation I need.”

Crap. 

_“How did you find out?”_

They lift their legs onto my lap and I let my hands rest over them. I didn’t realize until just now that I was bouncing my leg. Thank you Pidge for attempting to calm me down. “Keith ran out of your room holding his hand over his mouth and he was basically a human tomato. Pretty sure that only means one thing.”

I throw my head back. _“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”_

They raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t this a good thing? You guys kissed. You’ve both wanted this forever—don’t even try to argue with me you know it’s true—and now it’s a thing. Just make it more of a thing.”

_“Your use of the word ‘thing’ is not helpful.”_ They purse their lips. _“Just. After he kissed me he called himself an idiot and ran off. I don’t think there’s a ‘thing’ happening.”_

“You guys are so stupid.”

_“I got that part.”_

I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m pretty sure Keith doesn’t know either. There’s no way to take my actions back, but I need to fix something—anything—that’ll take us back a step or five from this limbo.

“If Romelle and I could figure things out, you and Keith at least have a tiny chance.”

_“We’re not soulmates. Things were meant to work out between you and Romelle.”_

They kick me, but I let them. Why? ‘Cause I’m paralyzed from the death knell that is our doorbell. No one’s supposed to be here yet. It’s too early. I can’t do this. Fuck.

Pidge hops up to answer it and I wish I could warn them to stop. I need more than two seconds to prepare my heart.

The door opens no matter how much I will it to stay shut.

“Hi sweetheart,” croons a smooth feminine voice from beyond our doorway. The face of said voice peeks into view as she gives Pidge a quick peck on the lips. Oh thank god.

Pidge looks extra fond and leads Romelle into the living room and into the space previously occupied by my lamentations.

“Where should I put the drinks?” she asks, holding up a couple six-packs of craft beers. Fancy girl.

Pidge points to the kitchen and they disappear under the archway.

It’s only for a tiny bit that I’m by myself, but people should know by now what happens to me when I’m left to my own devices.

I know I’m not alone alone. I know I’m not in any immediate danger. I know I’m theoretically in sight of everyone, but it doesn’t make things feel any less hazardous. I know Hunk and Pidge are trying to help, but they keep telling me that things will be fine if I talk to Keith. That’s easy for them to say. They have soulmates. Keith isn’t mine. I shouldn’t be considering doing anything with him in the first place.

Therein lies the problem. I’m making an effort for him when I don’t have to. God. Why didn’t I think of this before? He asked me to kiss him and I obliged. That’s it. It doesn’t have to mean anything. We don’t have to talk about it ‘cause it’s just what it is. He called himself an idiot after doing it which means he regretted it afterwards. Too bad there’s nothing to regret ‘cause it means nothing.

Yeah. Talking is stupid. Ignoring the issue is better. Ignoring the issue makes things okay.

Okay so they’re not okay, but fake it ‘til you make it am I right?

There’s a solid knocking at the door and this time there are multiple voices. Pidge again goes to let whoever it is in and three voices carry into the living room, two of which I recognize and another that I don’t.

Showtime.

Shiro walks in first, accompanied by a man slightly taller than him with ashy brown hair, skin only slightly lighter than my own, and glasses that are unlined at the top. He’s not as attractive as Shiro, but his stature reminiscent of a former soldier exhibits a confidence rivaling Shiro’s own. Kosmo sits at his side, this man seemingly his owner just as much as the other two are.

I try to focus on the new person and the pup in the room instead of the guy I made out—

Lance. Focus. You got this.

I sign to Shiro first. Luckily for me I have several people to interpret for me tonight, so I don’t have to let my thumbs do all the talking.

_“Who’s the beefcake?”_ I ask him. His face reddens by several shades and both the new guy and... _him_ look between the two of us for an explanation.

Shiro laughs weakly and replies, his face the picture of panic. _“Please never say beefcake again.”_

_“No promises.”_

“Umm. Hi.” The guy steps forward. “I’m Adam. You’re Lance, right? It’s nice to meet you.”

Adam holds out a hand and his grip is much more gentle than I would’ve imagined. Even Allura with all her grace doesn’t have this level of care with other human beings. He seems much more docile than I thought Shiro would be into. I guess I always thought he and Allura were a thing so I didn’t think there could be other possibilities.

_“Ah. So this is your Adam.”_ I grin and Shiro translates something entirely different from what I said.

“He’s just saying, ‘nice to meet you, Adam’,” he sputters out.

Adam tilts his head and _he_ seems unconvinced. “I thought ‘nice to meet you’ was more like…” He slides flat palms against each other, bumps his fists with his pointer fingers out, and then points to me.

Shiro chokes and pushes Adam away. “Let’s go put the food in the kitchen, shall we?”

I immediately regret my decision to mess with Shiro ‘cause now I’m alone with _him_. Even Kosmo left the room to explore.

“Hey,” Keith says, weight shifting to his left side and hand clasping his shoulder.

I put a hand up in greeting and don’t reach for my phone. After a few seconds he gives up on the niceties and turns his head to where laughing can be heard, the loudest being Hunk’s hearty chuckle.

In contrast, neither of us breathes a word. He stares at the others while I stare at the carpet fibers. I can’t find it in me to sit down ‘cause it feels wrong to get comfortable anywhere near him right now. That’s how we got here in the first place. We got too comfortable.

I glance up like the weak man I am and he opens his mouth to say something. It falls short of speech when Pidge and Romelle come out bearing a few bottles.

“Who wants what?” Pidge sets down two of the bottles on the coffee table and doesn’t grab for one themselves.

I reach out for one in answer. Keith doesn’t make a move to get closer and instead points to where they just came from. “I’ll just…”

Pidge side-eyes me, but directs a nod of affirmation at him. Oh god why the heck am I in trouble?

“Lance.”

I make sure to have Romelle’s full attention so I can converse through her. 

_“I know. I know.”_ Romelle translates in her own voice. _“Just...maybe talking isn’t a good thing.”_

__

Romelle claps her hands together in excitement, her eyes shining. “Ooh. Talk about what?”

Shit. Shit shit shit. I had a hard enough time telling Pidge about this and now I have Romelle on my case? I barely know her. I definitely don’t know her enough to tell her about my love life or lack thereof. Pidge throws a knowing look her way and she brings a hand up to her mouth.

“Oh! This is about the kissing thing isn’t it,” she announces a little too loudly.

I’d think both Pidge and I would go to shush her, but I’m the only one who does it. Pidge just stands there with their hands on their hips, glaring at me like I ate the last of their favorite cereal. The only reason I know that is ‘cause I did once and it was the most delicious mistake of my life.

“You’re an idiot.”

_“This has been established you little,”_ Romelle giggles, _“gremlin.”_

They make bull horns with one hand and bring their other hand up to the elbow and make a motion like they’re spraying something.

_“Romelle, what the hell? Why are you teaching the child these horrible words?”_ I ask, only semi-surprised, but fully dismayed. Pidge can cuss in English and code already. They don’t need to do it in ASL, too.

Romelle only covers her mouth and laughs. She wraps her arms around Pidge’s neck and places her chin atop their head. “If my love asks, then they shall receive.”

Pidge blushes and rubs their head up into Romelle’s chin, causing her to kiss their head in retaliation.

They’re so sickeningly cute and I didn’t think Pidge had it in ‘em. For someone who’s ace, you’d think they wouldn’t be all about affection, but there’s a lot of things I’ve been wrong about lately. Romelle loves physical contact and Pidge is thoroughly content with supplying and receiving said contact.

It’s like Kosmo and K—

Fuck off.

As if summoned by my inability to control my thoughts, he comes back in behind Shiro and Adam, with Kosmo trailing along at his feet.

Allura and Shay arrive and I realize...wait. Is everyone bringing their SOs tonight?

There’s Pidge and Romelle, Shiro and Adam are verging on a thing, Hunk and Shay are in the beginning stages of their relationship, and only Allura is single, but we all know she’s basically dating herself. That leaves Keith and me.

By the end of this night, I’m gonna die.

  


* * *

  


I’d spend all my time giving all my love to Kosmo instead of dealing with the other happenings of the room if he wasn’t cuddled up on Keith’s lap. Doesn’t help that everyone is cooing at him including Shiro for some reason I definitely understand. Some dogs would cower at all those faces pushed into their space, but he’s loving the spotlight. Well, good. Please take every ounce of it away from me you sweet pup. If anything, Keith is the one that’s uncomfortable.

“Lance please come here and pet him because I can’t handle any one of us not petting him right now,” Hunk squeals with his hands clasped next to his cheek.

_“He knows I love him,”_ I sign.

Hunk makes no motion to reply. Kosmo gives me a look as if to say, “You should just talk to Keith so you can stop being awkward and then you can pet me.” I know, Kosmo. I know.

_“I’m gonna grab something from the kitchen,”_ I sign to no one in particular.

Everything is too loud today. I need to breathe air that Keith isn’t exhaling in.

I hear the crinkle of a chip bag and jump out of my head. My heart calms itself when I realize it’s only Shay.

“Hello. Are you enjoying your evening?” She pours out some potato chips into a paper bowl.

I force a smile. _“Things are great. I’m glad you’re all here.”_

She frowns at the phone in her face and steps into my personal space. She looks me up and down as if to figure out what the heck to do with me. “You are not a good liar.”

Shay is a relatively neutral party as compared to everyone else. Maybe if I vent to her things will make more sense. Maybe. I don’t know. I lean up against the counter next to her so she can read my phone easier.

_“Remember the flowers?”_

She nods. “This is about the boy with the cute dog, is it not?”

I honestly don’t have enough energy at the moment to react to the fact that, once again, I’m hit with another person somehow knowing what’s going on. I keep typing instead.

_“Some stuff happened between us and it isn’t exactly going well.”_

She gives a soft smile. “I have noticed. You both look to each other with confusion and longing. Might I ask what happened?”

I spill the important details and some...not so important details. I tell her everything despite that this is basically Hunk’s girlfriend and someone I haven’t interacted with for more than an hour total. Sure she made me flowers—which I thank her for profusely—but that doesn’t mean I should be explaining my Keith issues. Still, I do it and I’m so tensed up by the end that I don’t see why it was worth it.

“What do you believe you should do?” Her expression is earnest and calm. It’s not the pitying look of Hunk or the exasperated eye rolls of Pidge, but rather something that makes me feel like this isn’t a lecture.

I cross my legs at the ankles and sigh. _“Hunk and Pidge told me I should just talk to him.”_

“I did not ask that.” Memories of Mamá flash through my mind. “I asked what you think you should do.”

I...don’t know. Usually when I can’t figure something out, I immediately look to other people for help. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? I mean, I can’t count the number of times I’ve decided things for my own, but those decisions were far less complicated than my current situation. This is something else entirely.

_“I think I ruined everything, but I need him to say it so I can accept it,”_ is the answer I come up with.

She hums in agreement. “How will you get him to say it?”

_“The only way to do that is to ask him, AKA Hunk and Pidge are right.”_

She places a hand on my shoulder lightly. “Hunk and Pidge may have given you the right advice, but that does not mean their conclusions were for the right reasons. Your reasons are the only ones that matter. I would not be wrong in assuming you know Keith better than they do?”

_“You’re not wrong.”_

“Then do what you feel is right. For him.” Her hand slips off and she giggles. “Preferably not here, of course. I do not know this Keith well and would not like to get caught in the middle of your conflict.”

I grin. _“I’ll make sure to keep myself in check.”_

Everyone shifted down to the ground where Kosmo relishes in all the belly rubs and head pats. Shiro and Adam are snug on one side of the couch, conveniently forgetting that they’re not together...yet. Keith is in the other corner regarding everyone fondly. The second he sees me, though, the panic comes flooding in.

It’s now or never.

I plop down in the third corner in the middle of our L-shaped couch, a whoosh of air exiting when my body meets cushion. I don’t know how to start, but I guess I have to do what I always do: improvise. 

Keith looks up for a moment from playing with his phone, but ultimately keeps his focus there. Only one way to get his attention now.

**Keef: i’m sorry.**

Wow. He beat me to it. I also almost forgot that it’s his number ‘cause I just changed the contact name.

**Me: What for?**

He raises an eyebrow at the screen.

**Keef: do you really need to ask that?**

**Me: I mean, yeah.**

**Keef: just**  
**Keef: can we go back?**  
**Keef: i’m sorry i asked you to do that and i know i fucked up.**

**Me: Woah woah woah.**  
**Me: You didn’t really ask me.**  
**Me: I decided to do it.**  
**Me: I’m the one that’s supposed to be sorry.**

**Keef: can we both be sorry?**

**Me: If you wanna be.**

A pause while he types, deletes, and retypes his message over and over.

**Keef: we’re stupid.**

A flash of teeth from both sides.

**Me: So stupid.**

Kosmo has finally grown tired of his fans and jumps into the space between us, effectively finding a place in both his lap and mine.

**Me: It was only a kiss.**

He laughs weakly.

**Keef: how did it end up like this?**

**Me: Did you just misquote Mr. Brightside?**

**Keef: ...maybe.**

**Me: Fake emo.**

**Keef: think what you want.**

There’s the Keith I know.

  


* * *

  


“You know you don’t have to buy my drinks anymore,” Keith deigns to inform me.

As if I don’t already know, but it’s become routine by now and I don’t wanna break it. I need some sense of normalcy here.

_“You walk me home on Monday and Thursday nights when you don’t need to.”_ I take a sip of my latte. _“I’m pretty sure buying you drinks isn’t that big of a deal.”_

He shrugs. “Just wanted to make sure it’s not weird.”

I sense more behind that than what’s on the surface. Things aren’t supposed to be weird anymore. We talked this out yesterday. Sorta. Things are supposed to be great from now on.

But god is it weird right now.

_“Nah. It’s fine,”_ I lie. For which one of us I don’t know.

  


* * *

  


_“I can’t believe you’re finally finished with Ender’s Game.”_ I sigh more in sadness than relief. _“I mean, no one should have to take a thousand years to read it, but it’s just so good.”_

Kinkade mimics my sigh. _“I’ll definitely miss it.”_

Throughout this session there have been times where I can forget about everything. I can forget that when I look at Keith all I want is to pull him in again and pursue this as fucked up as that is.

Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t get flashes of the way his body heat increased my own or that I don’t hear whispers of the small moans he made when our mouths opened up to the sweetness of the other. It’s ruining my head and I wanna ask him why. Why did he have to say yes to kissing me? Why did he pull away? Why does he think he’s an idiot for this? Why why why?

I don’t really want him to answer those questions ‘cause if he does, then things change. Things are already awkward, sure, but I can’t process the idea of him not walking beside me anymore. It feels right having him here. Despite all the fighting and shutdowns and mistakes, we keep in step together on this path we call our own.

When did it start being _our_ path?

“Lance?” Keith’s voice is hesitant.

God. Apparently my autopilot kicked in ‘cause I don’t remember the last two hours of my life. We’re already halfway home. _“Yeah?”_

He gives me a concerned look and stops in his tracks. “Things aren’t okay, are they?”

No please not right now.

I wanna lie. I really do. Somehow I can’t anymore. Not to him. Not about this. I’m brimming with this fucked up urge to take a chance. If I don’t make a move, I might lose my mind.

_“I don’t know what things are.”_

Everything is at a standstill. No movement even from shifting snow which has long since melted away with the oncoming spring. Watching him under the streetlamps, he doesn’t look like he’s even breathing. Say something. Anything. Push me away, tell me we’re friends, tell me I can give in to the thoughts of you.

“I made a mistake,” Keith starts, causing the air to flow back into my lungs.

Wait. _“Run that by me again?”_

“I asked you to kiss me out of curiosity and it’s my fault things are like this. I don’t want to make you feel like it has to mean something. It’s what it was.” A breath. “Still. I screwed up.”

Again with the apologies. I take a step towards him and he flinches. So that’s what he meant. That’s not even accurate. _I_ asked if he wanted _me_ to kiss _him_. Why does he insist on this being his fault?

Why why why?

_“That was my bad and you know it. You didn’t ask. I did.”_

“It doesn’t matter because I let it happen.”

_“So did I.”_

A beat.

“It didn’t mean anything, right?”

Once upon a time I took ballet lessons ‘cause Mamá thought it would do me some good. Before we started practicing our performance, our teacher would signal us by a specific count. _Five. Six. Seven. Eight._

_“No. It didn’t.”_ I smile for him and hope I’m hiding the drop in my gut. I was right to force myself away from feeling these things. We both know better than to do this. He didn’t even want to in the first place. Curiosity is the worst. Messing around gets someone hurt and, lo and behold, here we are.

Now why does it look like I’m not the only one that got hurt?

Why why why?

I don’t have time to figure that out before he resumes walking. He’s done with this conversation and while I have a thousand more things to ask and say and argue, I have to be done, too.

That’s the way things need to be.

  


* * *

  


**V: I am having the worst week.**  
**V: Tell me about Keith so I can focus on something not stupid.**

**Me: You okay?**

**V: No.**  
**V: Keith news.**  
**V: Now.**

**Me: I told you before.**  
**Me: Nothing’s going on.**

**V: Not in the mood, Lance.**

**Me: Ugh.**  
**Me: Fine.**  
**Me: Something happened and it was stupid.**  
**Me: So I guess both of us are having the worst week.**

**V: Wait, what happened to you?**

**Me: We...kissed?**

**V: Why is there a question mark????**

**Me: Just.**  
**Me: We decided it was just a curiosity thing and it didn’t mean anything.**

**V: Lance :/**

**Me: No worries.**  
**Me: It’s fine.**  
**Me: I got this.**  
**Me: Cool as a cucumber.**

**V: Do I need to kick his ass or can you handle this?**

**Me: There’s nothing to handle.**

**V: …**

**Me: I can handle this.**

**V: Did you guys at least talk about it?**

**Me: That’s how we decided on the curiosity thing.**

**V: What do you want it to be?**

**Me: It doesn’t matter.**

**V: What**  
**V: Do**  
**V: You**  
**V: Want**  
**V: It**  
**V: To**  
**V: Be**  
**V: ?**

**Me: Jesus with the multiple texts.**  
**Me: …**  
**Me: Is it okay that I want it to be more?**  
**Me: Even though he’s not my soulmate?**

**V: How do you know he’s not?**

**Me: Can you trust me on this one?**

**V: My baby brother is hurting and you’re asking me to trust you on you doubting yourself?**

**Me: Please?**

**V: Fine.**  
**V: For now.**  
**V: Expect an interrogation over this stupid boy once you finally figure your shit out.**

**Me: Fair enough.**  
**Me: But is it okay?**

**V: If you’re going out of your way to ask me that then I’m pretty sure you already know the answer.**

**Me: I don’t like the answer.**

**V: Es lo que es.**

**Me: Lo que es estúpido.**

**V: If things don’t work out, it’ll be okay.**  
**V: I promise, Space Cadet.**

**Me: Thanks, Earthworm.**

  


* * *

  


I got the fabulous idea to hang out with Keith in the living room instead of my room. Pidge is always around on Wednesdays and they can walk in at any minute which prevents things from possibly getting weird. We should, in theory, have nothing to worry about.

Except Pidge won’t come out of their room.

Keith set up his laptop on the coffee table so both of us can see this documentary. It’s not working as well as we’d hoped. He’s squinting his eyes to get a better view and I’m barely paying attention anymore, the screen going in and out of focus just like my mind.

“Do you mind if I just put it in my lap?” he asks, pointing to his laptop.

I shake my head. He positions it so that part of it is hanging off the edge of his thigh. He’s trying his best to get comfortable, but honestly the only way we can both watch is if I scoot closer. Is it wrong of me to do that?

Yes. Yes it is.

Keith doesn’t seem to care ‘cause he moves closer for me. Our thighs and shoulders are right up against each other. I hold back a shiver.

“Can you guys _please_ use headphones?” I hear Pidge call from the tiniest crack of their door. I call bullshit. I know they can’t hear us. The volume is barely at the halfway point.

Keith plugs his headphones into the jack and holds out the left bud to me. I hesitate, but take it anyways. This is okay. This is all okay.

Fuck. Nothing’s okay.

  


* * *

  


“We should go somewhere on Saturday,” Keith blurts out on our way home.

I play with the strings of my bracelet. This boy doesn’t know how to make things easier on me. _“Why?”_ Wow okay that sounded rude.

“Just thought we should get out of the apartment for once.”

I’d like to say that I’m agreeing with him ‘cause his logic is sound. I’m not. I’m so not.

_“Where?”_

He perks up and his cheeks flush the tiniest bit. “I don’t know. Anywhere really.”

I guess I typically have control over where we hang out ‘cause of the whole phobia thing. If I’m with him it shouldn’t matter where we’re at or what time it is. _“You can pick since it’s your idea.”_

“Alright. I’ll let you know where.”

He strides off and I watch him go, eyes leading down to—

Someone call a janitor because I am a mess.

  


* * *

  


**Keef: noon sound good to you?**

**Me: Yeah.**

**Keef: cool.**

**Me: Sooooo are you gonna tell me where we’re going or…?**

**Keef: secret. you’ll see when we get there.**

**Me: You know I hate secrets.**

**Keef: you’ll survive for at least 24 hours.**

**Me: Will I?**

**Keef: honestly it’s very possible you won’t considering you’re you.**  
**Keef: oh shiro wants something.**  
**Keef: i’ll see you tomorrow.**

**Me: See ya.**

  


* * *

  


I don’t remember the last time I ran around my room frantically searching for the perfect outfit. I don’t have a reason to agonize in the first place, which makes things easy. When I’m going out with a friend or even a date, I wanna look good, and I know what I look good in.

It’s nice to not have to wear a giant coat anymore. First of all, I don’t look like a freakin’ snow beast and second of all, my regular jackets are more comfortable.

**Keef: i’m downstairs.**

My heart jumps a little (see: alot) and I breathe deep a few times. This will all be fine. We’re just hanging out. It’ll be great and I won’t have to worry about things from now on. Things will go back to normal. This isn’t a date. Stop being weird. Oh my god why are you even comparing this to a date.

**Keef: hello?**

Shit. Downstairs I go.

  


* * *

  


_“Tell me where we’re going.”_

“Nope,” he replies. “It’s a surprise.”

I was sincere when I said I don’t like surprises. Never have. One time my parents threw me a surprise birthday party and I was pissed ‘cause my outfit wasn’t on point that day. Look, I know that’s a stupid reason to be mad, but I have problems. My emotions run my life.

When the bus finally reaches our _not date_ stop, we have to walk up a few blocks before we reach our destination. I stop breathing when we do. It’s an aquarium.

Keith looks away, a dash of pink added to his pale skin. “You said you missed the ocean and nothing compares, but I felt like this might at least be a consolation prize.”

Okay. This is not okay. This is very okay. This is something that shouldn’t have happened but man is this the most perfect thing. I have to fight back the tears tickling the corner of my eyes and I barely manage it.

“Is this okay?” he asks, looking overly serious considering this is probably the only surprise that I don’t hate.

I don’t know how to answer him properly, so I say what comes to mind first. _“I think this works.”_

Smooth response. Jesus. Brain. Work. _Por favor_.

My initial response upon entering is to stand in the line of people waiting to buy their tickets, but Keith stops me by holding up a couple pieces of paper with barcodes on them.

_“Are you serious?”_ This might as well be a date scenario.

Wait. Stop thinking like that.

“Take it as an apology.”

I fish for my wallet, but he gets the tickets scanned before I can. I guess I’m taking his apology.

The swirls of color amongst the seemingly blue water bring light to the dimly lit rooms. Manta rays float by like little spaceships among the other sea dwellers, so alien from everything around them yet fitting all the same. Tiny fish in tiny schools whip around every which direction for no reason other than part of their group decided that that was where they were headed. Seaweed and coral and rocks create layers and hiding places for the shier creatures. I bet Keith would hide in there too if he could.

There’s a touch tank with cownose and Atlantic rays as well as epaulette sharks. I only know that ‘cause their names are on tiny plaques attached to the railing. I slide two fingers across slimy skin. I can’t believe I’ve never done this before. This is seriously the best.

He walks slightly ahead of me in the beginning, but eventually he realizes I stop a little longer than I should at each wall of glass, relishing in the unfamiliarity that gives way to familiar memories of sandy beaches in the middle of summer. This isn’t perfect and this isn’t the ocean, but it doesn’t matter ‘cause it’s the closest I’ve been in a while.

I walk up to one of the larger containers and press my hands against the thick glass, feeling the coolness relieve palms that have long since gone sweaty from the stuffiness of the rooms. I may be so far removed from the water, but I’m there in the reflection and that’s good enough.

I haven’t texted Keith more than a few times during this whole trip, but if he minds, he’s sure not saying anything. He’s not talking to me either. I do catch him staring every once in a while, but I’m sure he’s just wondering if I’m gonna hurry up. He doesn’t rush me, but I’m sure he’s thinking about it all the same.

By far the place that’ll leave a deep impression in my memories is the jellyfish room. Medium-sized portholes let you peer into worlds of different species, all slightly translucent so that they look like half-moon glowsticks in the dark water. Tiny ones are little specks in their night sky while the larger ones are moons replicated over and over. I was a space kid, but the ocean is like space in a way. I don’t get enough opportunities to look at the ocean like this.

I spent so much time on the shore as a kid, never delving deeper than was comfortable. Mamá told me to stay close, so I obeyed. I wonder what it would be like to dive down deep where the jellyfish hide and float among them. What kind of mysteries would I find? What kind of life would I have if I got that experience?

The closest I’ll probably get is this, but that’s alright. This is definitely alright.

Keith and I stand in one of the corners for a while and take in the sight of all of this. The lights are almost nonexistent, so I can barely make out his features.

I pull out my phone to tell him what I need to, what I want to. _“Thank you for all this. I didn’t know I needed it, but I did.”_

He shrugs, but there’s a telltale smile on his face like the compliment actually meant something to him. “Apology accepted?”

I frown. _“I told you that you don’t have to apologize for that.”_

He’s so infuriating. One second we’re fine and the next he’s blaming himself for something I wanted as much as I’d like to pretend I didn’t.

_“You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to.”_

And there’s the slip. It’s what I never wanted to tell him, especially not now, but there it is. I’m ruining everything, but I can’t bring myself to care anymore ‘cause this isn’t his fault. I can’t let this be his fault. He doesn’t deserve that. If I have to lose him so he’ll feel better in the long-run, then so be it. If I can’t keep him around, then I don’t deserve him in the first place.

“You wanted to?” His voice is searching as much as his eyes.

_“Yeah.”_ I watch him for any sign of a change in expression, but I can’t see it. What I feel is the shift closer to me, the brushing of hands.

“Because you wanted me to have that experience?”

_“No.”_ One step closer. _“I just wanted to do that with you.”_

He’s not backing away. He’s not closing off. “You did?”

Oh fuck it.

_“Can I do it again?”_

His breath hitches and I take that opportunity to put my hand on his waist, testing the waters. This time he presses up against my chest. “Are you sure?”

I nod and lift his chin just the tiniest bit.

Under the glow of the moon and stars I taste something sweet and unsure. It’s not like last time with desperate touches. It’s something of a promise in its own way. I can hear the silent whispers of, _I’m not going anywhere if you aren’t,_ in my head. I hope he can hear them, too.

A rough hand slips into mine and squeezes.

He can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boy. I’ve been waiting to use that “dark room in a planetarium or jellyfish room” scene for a few months. Gotta be sugary sweet as hell when it comes to my boys.
> 
> If you guys need something to read in the meantime by the way, I have a completed College AU Klance fic from Keith’s perspective. Go ahead and check it out ~~because I love shamelessly plugging my work.~~
> 
> Oh and I have a Tumblr in case anyone wants to talk Klance or just ramble about nothing at all. I’ll also be following the tags “fic: echo my heart” and “teddykrueger” in case you guys post anything you want me to see. I’m linking my Tumblr down below.
> 
> Thanks so much for all the patience and love for this fic. Can’t wait to give you the next chapter. See you then~
> 
> **Tumblr:** [TeddyKrueger](https://teddykrueger.tumblr.com)  
>  **Fic:** [Only Stardust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14043720/chapters/32347134)


	9. Okay

Saying goodbye at the door yesterday was awkward as hell, but for once it feels like something good is starting. I don’t know where we’re going, but there’s some semblance of hope that it’s in the right direction instead of the thousand other places we’ve gone before.

Last week I stayed in bed to hide from my problems, but now I’m relaxing in bed ‘cause my problems are far far away. They’re things to worry about a thousand years from now. Instead I can read my soulmark and not feel guilty. He’ll come to me someday, but for right now I think I’m allowed to have this much with Keith. This much is good.

_You’re going to be the death of me._

The last month’s worth of soulmark messages makes me realize that they might’ve found someone, too—someone who’s filling up the time before we meet. Once upon a time I might’ve lost it if I knew they were with someone else, but because they’re only getting my thoughts, I know they probably don’t know whether or not he’s met me yet. At this point he probably isn’t phased anymore after all the thoughts about people I dated and especially thoughts about Nyma. I don’t have a right to be upset about his choices.

Now he has to read my thoughts about Keith and I’ll read about his mystery date. I’ve never seen this side of him. I don’t know what he’s like when he’s falling in love, so now I’m getting a preview of what it’d be like to be with him.

I lift myself out of bed and head out to the living room where Pidge is already wide awake. Apparently they’re back to their normal energy levels after their midterm ordeal. They shoot me a quick head nod and return their focus to their laptop screen, smiling as they do. I can’t help but grin.

 _“Romelle sending you cute messages again?”_ I text them.

They blush, but it’s not in embarrassment. Their affection for each other is much more comfortable. They don’t keep their distance because they might brush up against each other’s skin. They don’t look away after keeping eye contact for a little more than might be normal. They don’t have to wonder if the person they’re with is their soulmate. They’re sure.

I’ve always been jealous of people who find their soulmate, but now I’m just enjoying my friends being in love. I’m not like them at all right now, but let’s not get into that ‘cause that word is starting to give me hives.

Pidge snorts. “No. She’s sending me stupid memes that aren’t funny at all.”

_“AKA she’s sending you cute messages.”_

“Trust me. It’s stupid.”

I plop down onto the couch and they turn their monitor towards me. It’s a picture of a “nerdy” guy with the words “Hey girl, you make my software turn to hardware”. Romelle is a god. One hundred percent a god. Pidge’s asexuality is limiting their ability to enjoy the simpler memes in life. Romelle, I salute your attempts to bring culture to the gremlin.

 _“Oh my god your girlfriend is the best,”_ I mouth.

Pidge catches it and attempts to kick me with their foot. Little do they know I’ve practiced the art of blocking kicks from little gremlins many times.

They gape and nod in their impressed-ness. “I never thought I’d see the day.” They lean back into the corner and place their legs in my lap. “ _Anyways._ She’s one hundred percent the lamest person I know and I love her.”

I gasp. _“YOU SAID THE L-WORD!!!!”_

They roll their eyes. “Yes I said the L-word. She’s my soulmate. It was bound to happen eventually.”

I huff in disbelief. _“Are you kidding me??? HOw is this not exciting for you???”_

They blow on a stray tuft of hair that falls in front of their eyes, eventually getting frustrated with it and just pushing it back with their hand. “I kinda had that ‘oh shit’ moment last week and I’ve just been waiting to tell her. It’s not surprising to me anymore.” A sly smile forms on their face. “Speaking of ‘oh shit’ moments, what happened on your date with Keith?”

_“It went pretty well actually. I think we figured most of our shit out?”_

“Thank god because— _wait did you just agree with me calling it a date?!”_ They cup their hands around their mouth. “Hunk come in here now!”

Hunk bursts through his bedroom door and rushes into the kitchen, yelling, “Is my kitchen on fire?!” on the way.

I’m honestly not even surprised that _that was his first response. I switch to the group chat. _“Your kitchen is definitely not on fire. Just Pidge’s world.”__

__

He sighs in relief, but then his face falls again. “Oh god is Romelle okay?”

I wave my hand in dismissal and Pidge responds. “She’s fine.” They point a finger at me. “Lance over here is officially calling his date with Keith a _date_.”

Hunk gapes and scrambles right behind my position on the couch and puts his hands on my shoulders as if to keep me from going anywhere. “Tell me everything.”

I smirk. _“I don’t kiss and tell.”_

Hunk frowns and turns to Pidge. “We already knew they kissed.”

_“We definitely kissed. Again.”_

“Oh. Ohhh.” He pulls me into a bone-crushing hug and I’m left wheezing while he squeals. “You guys are finally gonna get together! I knew you were soulmates! I called it!”

When he lets go just enough, I cough and pat his hands. Gotta burst his bubble, yet again. _“He’s not my soulmate.”_

“See, you keep saying that, but how do you know it’s true? He doesn’t know his yet, does he?”

I run my fingers through my hair. _“He doesn’t have his.”_

“So what’s the problem?”

“Keith doesn’t have a soulmate at all.”

That wasn’t me. I’m hearing things. No one said that. No one. Did my vocal cords suddenly start working at the same time my brain stopped? Not possible.

I would actually believe myself if Hunk didn’t respond to said voice which in turn responded to him. A very Pidge-like voice.

“Lance was being all cagey the other day about people who don’t have soulmates and I thought that maybe he didn’t have one. Then I remembered I’d seen his mark, so there’s no way he was asking for himself. And who is he most concerned about having or not having a soulmark besides himself?”

Hunk looks to me with pity and I wish he’d just stop. Please. I’ve been trying so hard to keep this for him and now I’m screwed because no matter what I say, Pidge knows all and we all know they’re never wrong. At any other time in any other situation, I’d honestly be impressed, but right now I can’t stop the horror flooding through my system.

 _“It was totally about something else I swear,”_ I lie. _“I was just curious about the idea and wanted to know some stuff. That’s all.”_

Pidge screws up their face and contemplates me for a minute, leaving silence between us all. Hunk thinks about all this, too, but it’s them who says something.

“You don’t have to admit to anything, but can I just say my piece and we can move on?”

If I don’t say anything, then I’m technically not telling. I tried to keep things a secret, but I wasn’t subtle enough. I hate that I ruined this for him, but there’s nothing I can do now. I nod, hoping that someday this won’t be as big of a deal as it seems right now.

“I don’t know exactly what’s going on with you two, so what I’m saying could be entirely irrelevant, but I don’t think it matters if he doesn’t have a soulmate.” I scowl and they backtrack. “I meant that it shouldn’t stop whatever thing you guys have been working towards. You guys seem happy. Really happy. Like stupidly happy. Well, whenever you guys aren’t being complete idiots.

“I know you have a soulmate. I know you’re caught up in this fantasy about them, but you know that there are platonic soulmates, right?”

_“I know, but I love them. I know I do. I don’t think this is platonic.”_

“I didn’t think mine was going to be romantic until I met Romelle,” they remind me. “You can love someone without being with them like you want to be with Keith.”

I hate that they might be right. I hate that I’m entertaining this idea at all. Keith isn’t mine in that way. I can’t go along hoping I’m not in love with my soulmate. Doing something with Keith is one thing, but letting myself believe that this can go on as long as I want could break me eventually. This is temporary. It has to be. I bet he knows it, too. He doesn’t want to do this forever and I _can’t_. I just want this for now, whatever this is.

“Whatever you do, buddy, we’re here for you,” Hunk assures me.

I know they will be. They always are.

_You’re gonna be the death of me._

  


* * *

  


I don’t remember the last time I mentally begged Coran to just _let us out_ , but with Keith sitting right next to me after everything that happened, I can’t help but want to talk to him. I need to see whether or not he wants to forget Saturday like he wanted to the last time we kissed.

God. We kissed. Again.

He spares me a couple glances in class, only caught ‘cause I sneak a few of my own. He looks prettier today somehow. Maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t have to hide his oddly attractive hair in a beanie anymore. Maybe it’s how I can see his figure ‘cause of the tightness of his T-shirt. Maybe nothing’s changed and I’m just crazy. I’m probably crazy.

It might not be snowing anymore, but the rain came along last night. The puddles reflect our stiff postures, and that’s saying something considering Keith. I toe at one of them and walk backwards in order to watch the ripples dissipate.

“Are we gonna forget Saturday or…?” Keith asks quietly.

I quit walking backwards and keep in step with him again. _“I was under the impression that we didn’t have to forget that one.”_

He sighs in relief and his shoulders relax. “Okay. Good. That’s...good.”

_“You’re so awkward.”_

“And you’re not?” he snaps, but with way too little bite behind it.

_“I’m cool as a cucumber, kid.”_

He puffs air through his nose and for the first time in a long time, the small talk on the way to Altea doesn’t feel so bad. Despite all the bullshit we’ve gone through, I feel comfortable. Well, mostly.

I used to hate the knowing looks on Shiro’s and Allura’s faces when we walked into the shop, but now it’s a joke I’m in on. Hell yeah I’m doing a thing with Keith, as Pidge would eloquently state if they were here. I bite back a smile when I pay for our drinks at the cashier. Shiro raises an eyebrow at Keith and he shrugs. I notice he’s smiling more than usual, too.

Allura is the one I can’t contain myself in front of. I full-on beam and she knows. We don’t have to communicate and instead she says, “Finally.”

Keith and I are still keeping a relative distance from each other, but it’s more tentative than nervous. I didn’t lose him. I _didn’t_ lose him. I’ve never been so glad to follow an impulse in my life.

“See you tonight,” he says as I float on to the torture that is Zarkon. Even he can’t shoot me down.

“See ya.”

  


* * *

  


_“You did not just get an A on Zarkon’s midterm,”_ Hunk signs in pure bafflement. _“He didn’t even call you out for cheating. He just nodded when you picked it up. How?”_

I know Zarkon’s gonna keep grilling me in class for whatever reason he’s thought up in his tiny ass brain, but he acknowledged my work. He doesn’t have to like me to grade me fairly.

I give a tiny wheeze. _“I’ll pay for your frap, buddy.”_

He grunts and crosses his arms, letting his bottom lip jut out. He’s such a baby. I clap him on the back and we continue on with what I’m pretty sure is about to be the best week ever.

  


* * *

  


_“Okay, Ender’s Game is over, so what are you reading now?”_ I ask Kinkade who promptly pulls his next title out of his bag.

His teacher must be on the morbid side ‘cause he shows me a copy of _Brave New World_. I partially remember it, but I’m not exactly sure how it ended. Guess I’ll be learning this one along with him.

 _“This is the one with the soma stuff, right?”_ If it is, it’s as dark as I remember.

He nods. _“Yeah. Happy pills. Hell never felt so good.”_

 _“Kinkade! Language!”_ I crane my neck to look around at all of the other high school kids who are entirely engrossed in their tutors or otherwise occupied with a spot on the wall. _“There are children present.”_

He rolls his eyes and makes the gesture of fake laughter. _“You’re just an old man.”_

_“You take that back.”_

_“Calm down.”_ He smirks. _“Don’t want you to get a heart attack.”_

This boy.

 _“Alright. Questions. Go,”_ I chide. He actually needs to work this time. I can’t sit around and let someone’s kid fail. I have a reputation to uphold.

One of the characters, Fanny, talks about her friend’s relationship with the male main character, Henry Foster. Kinkade mouths a passage and I watch him carefully. _“‘...it’s not as though there were anything painful or disagreeable about having one or two men besides Henry. And seeing that you ought to be a little more promiscuous…’”_

God. No wonder this is what they come up with when they think of dystopias. I mean, monogamy doesn’t have to be your game, but personally the idea of having more than one person I’m seeing sounds like the worst decision emotionally. 

_“Alright, so from this passage alone, what does this say about their society?”_ I ask.

He’s quick to answer. _“Attachment only breeds discontent.”_

 _“Damn.”_ I grin. _“Look at you.”_

_“Language, old man.”_

_“Tú quieres hablar en español?”_

He just chuckles silently and we get on with the dreary subject matter at hand.

  


* * *

  


_“His snark is unbelievable,”_ I huff as I mouth at Keith.

“I wonder where he got that from.”

 _“I’m gonna need you to—”_ His hand brushes up against mine and the entirety of my upper body freezes while my legs somehow keep moving.

I stare forward, not risking giving my thoughts away. We haven’t talked about what that kiss meant. I don’t know if we should test the dating thing or just see what happens without talking about it in detail.

All I know is that if I were a braver man, I would grab his hand in a heartbeat.

Our fingers brush again and I know that it’s less accidental this time. I look down to the minimal space between us and then peek up. We lock eyes, but they’re elsewhere just as quickly. I don’t know what to do.

He figures it out for me. His pinky hooks around mine and a warmth settles in my stomach. Contentment and nervousness swirl around until I’m a dizzy mess. This doesn’t explain everything, but for once I can tell we’re at least in the same chapter.

We make an effort to make conversation the rest of the way, but it’s punctuated by the tension from our link. It’s an undeniable one that I can’t define, but for the moment, I think I’m okay with ignoring the dictionary.

  


* * *

  


**Me: Pidge wants to have a movie night tomorrow.**  
**Me: Pajamas required.**

 **Keef: sounds good to me.**  
**Keef: what are we watching?**

**Me: Some horror movie they swear is the best thing ever.**

**Keef: i thought you hated those?**

**Me: Take that up with Pidge.**

**Keef: need me to protect you?**

**Me: ...maybe.**

**Keef: i’ll do my best, i guess.**

**Me: Aww.**  
**Me: What a sweetheart.**

**Keef: ?**

**Me: Oh.**  
**Me: Whoops.**  
**Me: Delete the sweetheart part.**

 **Keef: i don’t mind it.**  
**Keef: i don’t really get pet names.**

**Me: What do you mean you don’t get them?**

**Keef: they don’t affect me.**

**Me: Babe?**  
**Me: Honey?**  
**Me: Cutie pie?**  
**Me: Mullet?**

**Keef: that last one definitely did something.**

**Me: Oho ;)**

**Keef: otherwise nope.**

**Me: Oh my god you’re no fun.**

**Keef: i’ve been told.**

**Me: I’m gonna find one.**  
**Me: And you’re gonna blush like the fairest maiden in all the land.**

 **Keef: that metaphor sounds wrong.**  
**Keef: oh wait no it’s because you used it.**

 **Me: Rude.**  
**Me: Anyways.**  
**Me: See you tomorrow?**

 **Keef: yeah.**  
**Keef: i’ll be there.**

  


* * *

  


“Popcorn?”

_“Check.”_

“Candy?” 

_“Check.”_

“Movie?”

_“Check.”_

“Your weird boyfriend thing?” Pidge cuts in to Hunk’s and my list.

 _“He’s literally in the next room I need you to chill,”_ I reply. 

They sign a “whatever” and get to plugging the HDMI cable into our TV. We rarely use it except for the rare occasion that we choose to play on the PS4 together, but otherwise we’re too lazy to connect our laptops. Besides, the resolution doesn’t transfer so well. I prefer my TV shows to be a lot less grainy.

There’s a rap at the door and I open it to find Romelle and Allura already in their lavender and pink pajamas, respectively.

 _“Did you walk around like that?”_ Romelle translates for me.

“Lance,” Allura starts. “Let me introduce you to the concept of not giving a damn.”

Okay, to be fair, she could go around wearing the most atrocious excuse for an outfit and no one would bat an eye. Well, they might bat an eye, but it would be for entirely different reasons. 

Romelle swoops Pidge into her arms and they both fall to the couch in a little heap. At the same time, Keith comes out of my room in...fuck he’s cuter than I remembered.

I don’t get the luxury of seeing him in my own clothes, but seeing him in his pajamas is good enough. I was avoiding looking at him in general when I slept over the other day, but man was I missing out. He runs his fingers through his hair a couple times, hair tie dangling from his mouth, and ties it into a little ponytail—holy shit he’s killing me.

I can’t stop staring even when he raises an eyebrow at me. Instead of the blush I’ve come to expect, he smirks. Actually smirks. I hate him and his lips. Well, okay, maybe I love his lips. Damn. If we didn’t already invite everyone over I’d be all over him.

“Alright. Someone fullscreen the movie on my laptop,” Pidge declares from their Romelle-shaped throne. I squat down to obey their bidding to find a page riddled with ads. No doubt it’s one of those pirated movie sites instead of, I don’t know, _legitimate_ websites where you _pay for people’s art._

They scoff as if they can read my mind. “Just go answer the door you hypocritical goody-two-shoes.”

 _“How do you even know that—”_ The doorbell cuts me off.

They’re smug and I just...what the fuck? The more and more I interact with them, the more I’m convinced they’re not human. Calling them a gremlin is too simplistic. They’ve gotta be an alien at least. Maybe they and Keith are the same species and that’s how they get along. What if my—what if Keith is an alien?!

“Lance. Door,” Keith alerts me from above.

I walk backwards to the door, keeping my eyes on Pidge the whole time. Apparently everyone is showing up two-by-two ‘cause Adam and Shiro come together _with matching overnight bags._ They might as well be married oh my god.

Hunk slips out of the kitchen with a couple bowls of popcorn and grins at the two of them. “Perfect. We can start.”

This couch isn’t meant for eight people, but somehow we all manage to squeeze in. Keith, bless his soul, chose the corner which means I’m practically in his lap at this point. I mean, I don’t mind all that much, but I’d like to keep him from resenting me please.

I’m not exactly sure how this movie is good, but it is. It’s not even scary. Totally not. Nope. That weird little alien thing under the cute burlap sack does not fuck me up in every way possible. Everyone else is smiling and cackling through everything, but I’m gradually forcing Keith to become one with our couch ‘cause _Jesus Christ what did that guy just do to his son?!_

“Pidge, this is quite a charming movie I must say,” Allura says, her posture who knows how staying perfect.

“My sweet is quite a charming person,” Romelle replies. She places a quick kiss on top of Pidge’s head.

Adam and Shiro have been unbelievably quiet this whole time, so I turn my attention to them. They’re both stiff and it’s only when I look below their faces that I figure out why. They’re holding hands. They’re actually holding hands. Someone please alert the chorus because someone needs to sing praises to whatever forces made this happen. 

My bubble pops when Keith nudges me away from him and pushes his way out of his trap. He stops for a second to give me a look that says, “are you coming?” before entering my room. I check to make sure no one’s paying attention to us, but they definitely don’t care. Somehow the movie is more fascinating than our potential escapades. Honestly I don’t get them. I really don’t.

I shut the door to my room as gently as I can after joining Keith. He’s attempting to spin a pencil in his fingers, dropping it every couple seconds or so.

 _“So skilled,”_ I mouth sarcastically.

“At least I’m not scared of a little kid in a semi-creepy Halloween costume,” he retorts.

_“Shut up.”_

A small smile finds its way on his face, words attempting to break through. His stoicism as long gone as the snow.

I lean against my chair. _“What are you thinking?”_

He hesitantly lifts his hand and lightly grabs onto the tips of my fingers. He looks up, a question in his eyes. God. He’s always making me the loser. How is he able to make a move like that? I’m starting to think I’m the one that’s holding back. 

Oh who the hell am I kidding. I am the one holding back. It’s not like I don’t want to move forward. I just don’t know what to do. My experience is for nought. 

I hear our friends chattering above the dialogue of the movie, but I don’t hear a word they say. Every bit of my senses is honing in on him and his movements and his breaths and just...everything. For all of that time I spent in relationship after relationship, I should know what to do here. I just can’t make that extra step.

 _“So how are things?”_ I ask.

I’m so fucking good at this I swear.

“Shut up and come here,” he demands.

I don’t need any more prompting. He scoots back further on my bed and I straddle him, switching the obvious positions. I may be the taller one, but I wanna be the one to keep him down right now, rile him up from above. He looks so pretty today and I need to play with his hair. It’d be harder to reach comfortably if he straddles me, so this is the perfect opportunity.

He places a hand behind my head and pulls me in, no sense of hesitation anymore. Somehow we went from too scared to hold hands to making out like we know every bit of each other. To be fair, I’m pretty sure he does ‘cause what he does with his tongue should be illegal.

First it’s the licking of my lips and my releasing of air as I try to elicit a moan that’ll never come. Then it’s the flick against my teeth that shouldn’t be hot, but somehow it is. Then it’s the intertwining of his tongue with mine, making sure to suck a bit to keep a sense of variation.

I feel like a mess while somehow he knows what he’s doing. He’s never kissed anyone else before and yet he can do this?

I pull back, just as breathless as he is if not more. _“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”_

He flashes his teeth, exhibiting the one tooth that just barely ruins the straightness. “Feel that good?”

_“That good.”_

He chuckles and runs a finger up my spine.

 _“You look so good with your hair tied up, kitten,”_ I mouth.

Ah. There’s that embarrassment. Every other nickname I tried doesn’t work. He’s too impervious to the basics. Kitten, though? Kitten gets him to try to shut me up in the best way possible.

It’s very effective.

He twists out of my grasp and pins me to the bed, eyes dark and just the slightest bit dangerous. He takes his fingers and plays with the hem of my shirt, a question I’m oh-so please to answer in the affirmative.

He caresses my chin and then slips both hands under my shirt. I can’t help but let a gasp escape ‘cause his rough hands are so much better than smooth ones. I can feel him better. He’s really here. He’s really mine.

Careful, Lance.

He leans forward and goes for my neck. He licks a stripe up the length, but then nips along my shoulders. He dips below and finds a fucking incredible spot on my collarbone and sucks. He’s not gentle by any means, but I think that’s what I like about him. Once he makes a move, he doesn’t hold back, which is endearing in every definition of the word.

I play around with the hem of the waistband of his sweats, slipping a little deeper with every stroke across. He moans along with it and I wanna keep going so so so bad. Can I have this? I want this. I really really want this. Just a little more. Let me drive you crazy, Keith. Let me let me let me. 

He sits up and keeps me down. He runs his fingers through his bangs and refuses to look at me. Oh shit.

“Can we…” He shifts backwards a little. “Can we just keep doing this? Just this?”

_“You mean just making out?”_

“Yeah, that.”

For someone who’s so eager I forget he’s never gotten this far with anyone else. It’s been a while since I went through what he’s going through, but I remember the nerves. It’s terrifying to keep going ‘cause you’re not sure if and when the other person is going to reject you. All of this is new to him. I don’t wanna push him away. I’m done with him running.

I sit up to match him, causing him to shift back even more to accommodate me, then wrap my arms around him securely.

_“Of course.”_

He smiles and drops down to press a soft kiss on my lips. As much as I like rough Keith, soft Keith is turning me into a puddle as we speak. I pepper little smooches along his chin and succeed in making him laugh. I’ll never get tired of that.

Just then my door swings open, only remaining in one piece because of the door stopper. Keith flings backwards and makes a dull thump on the floor. He rolls onto his stomach and holds the back of his head. That grimace is serious business. 

Keith’s soldier-sized brother stands in the doorway, entirely exasperated by our little scene. “As much as I don’t want to interrupt your” he looks between the two of us, “...private time, Pidge has another movie they ‘need to watch’ and they’re getting impatient. I’m not sure I can hold them off for much longer.”

I force a smile and salute him. He walks out and makes sure to shut the door behind him. For someone who doesn’t knock, you’d think he’d just leave the door open. Consistency is not his strong point.

Well, time to go.

Before we leave, I make sure to kiss Keith one last time before we have to face our friends. They all have knowing grins, no doubt trying to remind us that we’re in no way subtle.

Lucky for them I don’t care who knows anymore.

“No more making out!” Pidge declares with a point of their finger. “How am I supposed to subject Lance to torture by horror movie if he’s not even here for it.”

 _“I hate you,”_ I sign. Pidge doesn’t need a translation for that one.

“Wait, Keith has a boy—” Shiro elbows Adam. “Keith and Lance?”

Keith sticks his tongue out. “Took me less time to get with someone than you two.”

Shiro and Adam look to each other and just smile. Keith gags.

“I’m all for these cute interactions, but must we be disgusting when we could instead watch other people get slaughtered?” Allura asks nonchalantly.

 _“You’re so fucked up,”_ Romelle translates.

Allura flips her hair and flashes her pearly whites. “We’re all a little loony, aren’t we?”

The entire group glances between each other. Yeah. We’re batshit.

As much as this other movie freaks me out, I can’t help but squish up against all my stupid friends. I love these losers.

  


* * *

  


_“Keith,”_ I mouth over and over again between kisses.

He’s back to his rough self again and now he’s got his hands up the back of my shirt. I pulled him close as possible ‘cause he’s not allowed to stop. Nope. Never. Jesus I didn’t know how much I needed him like this.

He chuckles his way out of the kiss and I frown, although it’s not as serious as it could be. The sound of his laugh is fucking incredible, but way to make a guy feel sorta insecure.

“Stop saying my name like that,” he says.

I smirk. _“What? I’m just praying to the guy that’s ruining my willpower.”_

He flushes at that and dives in, not letting me search for a way out for even a second. I can’t breathe anymore, but who cares because _Keith Keith Keith_ fills my mind instead of filling my mouth. Well, there’s no space for it in my mouth ‘cause he’s already—

“Ehem.”

We pull away in horror and face the person who clears their throat. Standing there is an entirely unimpressed middle-aged woman complete with pursed lips and a tapping foot. She makes a shooing motion and we step out of her path. Maybe making out in the doorway of my apartment lobby wasn’t the best idea.

She scoffs on her way in and Keith flips her off while her back’s turned. She whips around, but I don’t think she caught it. She just scowls and stalks off. You’d think we were having sex out here with that attitude. Now that’s an idea.

Keith finds his way into the crook of my neck and starts kissing up and down the length, sucking just above my collarbone. As much as I’d like to continue, I don’t know if I can take more dirty looks tonight. It’d be even worse if Pidge and/or Hunk came home to this. I’ll never live it down. Although, I’d get some good pictures…

_Lance, no._

But Lance, _yes._

I tilt his chin up to lock eyes, smiling at my oh-so impatient boy. _“I have to go.”_

“No you don’t,” he growls. He’s making this even harder than it already is.

Cue drums.

I give him a quick peck that turns into twenty. _“Okay I really have to go.”_

“Fine.”

He pulls away and gives me one last look over his shoulder, a genuine smile on his lips.

Okay. Maybe just a few minutes more.

  


* * *

  


“I want to see your soulmark.”

I sit up from my perfect cuddling position. Well, almost perfect if you don’t count the fact that my left arm lost circulation half an hour ago. _“Why?”_

Keith shrugs and slips his fingers in the spaces between my own. “I just want to.”

He’s never made any indication before that he’d be interested in my soulmark. If anything, we’re always talking about him lacking one. It bothers him, so I find it easier not to talk about it. I don’t get why he’s asking now. I’m sure he’s seen Shiro’s or Adam’s or maybe even Allura’s. Mine isn’t all that different in the end.

_“Are you sure?”_

“Yeah.”

I search for more confirmation in his eyes and he nods. I don’t know if I should do this, but he seems convinced that he wants it, and I wanna say yes to him just as much as I wanna say no. I tug at the strings of my wristband, holding the underside of my wrist closest to me so he can’t see it yet. I unwrap and rub at the areas where the impressions are the deepest.

 _“Okay. I’m gonna ask you one last time,”_ I mouth. _“Are you sure you want to see it?”_

“Lance just show me your damn soulmark,” he demands.

So I do. The second he can see, his breath hitches. He reaches out to touch, but stops just above the mark, the glow making his fingers look pink. He pulls his hand back instead and holds 

it close like it burns. I’m not overly surprised, but it hurts. Weirdly enough I don’t hurt for me, but for him. The words today aren’t exactly the most reassuring.

_I want you all to myself._

“So that’s that,” he says wryly.

_“Does it bother you?”_

He shakes his head, but his brow is still pinched and his eyes are dark, but not in the sexy way.

_“Talk to me.”_

“What is there to talk about?” he snaps. “You have a soulmate. Whoop de doo.”

I huff. _“See? This is why I didn’t want to show you. I thought we were already past this whole thing. We both know he wasn’t going to just go away.”_ I’m a liar and I know it. We’re not past jack shit. He doesn’t hesitate to jump at me with words aimed to kill.

“It doesn’t stop this whole thing from being wrong.”

Ow. 

_“You really think this is wrong?”_ My mouth feels like I’ve got peanut butter stuck to the roof. It’s almost like there’s some stuck in my throat, too.

“Don’t you?”

For a second, I sincerely doubt that we’re doing anything wrong, but I must’ve taken too long to respond ‘cause Keith stands up and away from me.

“You do,” he states and I flinch. “You have a soulmate and I don’t. You can just mess around until he comes around and I’ll just be a stand-in for him. You want the best of both worlds and I don’t have that.” His voice cracks and my heart is chip chip chipping away. “I can’t have that. Ever. I know I’m not him, so why am I pretending like I could be?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. No. Please no. _“Keith I want—”_

“You want. I just don’t know if I want.”

I mouth things rapid-fire about how we can do this and about how things are so far away that we don’t have to worry about it right now. I wish I could scream at him because he’s just ignoring every single word. 

Chip chip chipping away.

_“Please just look at me.”_

“I think I’m gonna go.”

Just like that he’s gone. He’s always just gone. When I think things are okay, they fall the fuck apart. I don’t know if I have it in me to be pissed. I’m just kinda...shocked maybe? I’ve dealt with him being like this I don’t know how many times and I still can’t get used to it. Look at me knowing how to deal with life. I’m so good at it.

He just needs space. He always comes back around when I give it to him. It’ll be perfectly fine and I know it. He’s my hothead, but he wouldn’t just walk away for good.

Yeah. It’s okay. Things will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wrote 6,000 words of fluff. _Fluff._ As far as chapter length goes, I think this one is on the shorter side. BUT! The next chapter for sure has a ton of content in it (AKA I've already started writing it right after posting which hasn't happened in a while). 
> 
> P.S. I slipped that scary movie part in for Klancetober because Happy Halloween everyone! I'm early, but it's October so every day is Halloween in my book. **Also, for the first person to guess the movie I'm referencing, I'll create a minor character with a name of your choosing (it can be your own) for a future chapter.** Probably the next one. It's one of my favorite Halloween movies, so I'll be stoked if you guys know it.
> 
> P.P.S. I'm playing Red Dead Redemption 2 on PS4 right now and it's so good??? If you want to discuss it or any things Voltron, The Dragon Prince, or any other fandoms you've noticed I like, feel free to hit me up on Tumblr! I'll also be playing the online version when it comes out, so if anyone wants to join me, I'd be happy to play with you!
> 
> You guys have been so fantastic and lovely and I can't wait to bring you the next chapter two weeks from now.
> 
>  **Tumblr:** [@TeddyKrueger](https://teddykrueger.tumblr.com/)


	10. Make Our Own

Every time I finish another YouTube video, I check my phone. Every buzz, every lighting of the screen, every phantom _ding_ makes me positive that it’s gonna be him on the end.

“He’ll get back to you,” Hunk assures me.

 _“I just don’t get it,”_ I sign. _“It wasn’t that big of a fight.”_

I’m not completely wrong about that. It shouldn’t have been that big of a fight. We both knew from the get-go that I have a soulmate and that he’s never going away. I thought we also both knew that we don’t have to worry about it for who knows how long. Apparently I was wrong, but he accepted it last time I checked. Right? Yeah. He definitely did.

Pidge is laying down and cackling their way through numerous replays of popular Vines. I try to let the audio cheer me up while I let the matching clips play in my head. It’s working a little, but the only audio I really care about is Keith’s voice telling me that things are fine. From where I’m sitting, it’s starting to look like things are decidedly not fine.

“I mean, I can understand why he’s freaking out,” Pidge says. “Not having a soulmate doesn’t give you a lot of choice. You can either take someone else’s soulmate, find the other one-in-a-million person that doesn’t have a soulmate either, or live the rest of your life lone wolf style.” They turn on their side and make wolf ears above their head, baring their teeth and taking a quick bite of air.

I wheeze out laughter. _“Okay, stop that,”_ I text them.

They oblige, but not without a smile of their own.

I need a distraction, anything that isn’t YouTube because honestly it’s making me feel like I’m wasting my life here. I need to focus on socializing, and who better to do it with than someone whose girlfriend is cute as can be?

 _“Anything going on with you and Romelle?”_ I ask.

“Her family is visiting next week so I get to meet them,” they respond.

_“And?”_

“And I’m kind of terrified.”

I raise an eyebrow and smirk. _“The Great Pidgeolini Holt is terrified of their girlfriend’s family? I’m pretty sure you spend the twilight hours hacking into international government agencies to figure out if they have classified files on bigfoot, but okay.”_

They sit up and point a finger at me. “That’s child’s play and you know it! Besides,” they slump back, “she really cares about her family and if they don’t like me, I don’t know what to do.” 

I reach over and almost fall off the couch in the process. I somehow manage to pat their leg from here. _“They’re gonna love you.”_

They sigh and then their mouth forms a small “o”.

“That reminds me. Would you mind helping me out with my sign language? Her brother is deaf and mute and I want to make a good impression on him especially. She’s been teaching me, but I need to be better.”

Watching them love someone else is better than any romance movie I’ve ever seen. Sometimes I’ll catch them on a phone call home and I know it’s their brother on the line when they start boasting about everything cool they’ve done over the last week or so. They’re constantly building, hacking, and moving so that they can show someone they’re made of something more.

It’s hardest to do all that when it comes to relationships. The challenges are different when it comes to non-family people and no one’s good at people. Even Hunk can barely talk to his semi-girlfriend without getting nauseous. Pidge lives in a world of numbers and definitive answers. Romelle is anything but.

 _“Someone’s gotta teach you more than just cuss words.”_ They grin and settle on the floor, patting the space next to them. _“You mean right now?”_

“Uh, yeah. They’re coming next week, remember?”

I grin. _“Let’s get started then. What are some of the things you really wanna learn?”_

“I’ve already learned ‘nice to meet you, I’m Pidge’ and all the other polite things like ‘thank you’ and ‘please’.”

 _“Okay so we can move on to more complicated things.”_ I think for a second and realize I know next-to-nothing about Romelle’s family. Time to get them talking. _“What’s her brother like?”_

They hum. “Apparently he’s really into technology. He likes making little gadgets and stuff. Romelle showed me this communicator he made for the two of them so that they could communicate no matter how far apart they are.”

_“Wouldn’t that just be like a cell phone?”_

They laugh. “They were kids when he made it.”

 _“Ohoho. Looks like someone else is in the running for ultimate kid genius.”_ They push my shoulder back and I huff dramatically. They roll their eyes. _“I don’t know a ton of technology words, so you might have to go to Romelle for specifics, but you can try things like ‘what are you making?’ and ‘show me how to do that’.”_

Their features brighten significantly. “Okay. Let’s start there.”

 _“So for ‘how did you make it?’ make your hands into the sign version for ‘c’, turn the cupped part inwards and pop your thumbs up and press them together. That’s ‘how’. Then ‘you’. Go ahead.”_ They do exactly as I say with a lot of hesitation, but it’s not an overly complicated sign. _“Good. Next part is ‘make’. Make two fists and place the right one on top of the left. Then twist them in the direction that makes your knuckles go outwards.”_

They do it and we repeat the whole phrase until they can do it with ease. “Awesome. What’s next?”

 _“There’s a whole language, so anything you want,”_ I say.

I think I found the distraction I was looking for.

  


* * *

  


The thing about assumptions is that they’re right until they’re wrong. When they’re wrong, they’re mega wrong.

Like the last time Keith didn’t show up to class, I know for a fact that he’s just late. Shiro or Kosmo probably held him back for some reason or he had to finish work for another class and didn’t want to waste time in this one. Who knows. All I know is that he’s supposed to be here and he’s not.

I hate it when he doesn’t show. It’s almost like he’s trying to tell me that he needs to be away from me because I’m too much. I’m used to people thinking of me that way, though, so it wouldn’t be much of a surprise. I try to tell myself that it’s not true, but I can’t help the thoughts that creep in when I get too lax. The fact is, this whole thing is my fault and I know it. I’m indecisive and I have someone else I can’t just get rid of for him. My situation is nowhere near simple.

That being said, he’s running away like always while I’m sitting here feeling sick. He didn’t let me know if he got home alright like he usually does. I don’t think I need to worry ‘cause Shiro would’ve texted me if something was wrong, but I don’t know what kind of excuses Keith can make for his absence. I don’t know how much freedom Shiro gives him.

“Hey, Lance,” Shiro greets. “Usual?”

I nod solemnly and he gives me a concerned look, but ultimately he keeps going as if nothing in the universe is off. 

He’s the only one working the bar right now so he’s also the one to hand me my drink. What I wouldn’t give to have Allura here. At least she’s not the second party’s older brother. I’m sure she’d defend Keith with everything she has, but she could at least let me know if he’s alright without hounding me too much. She’s got her moments.

I have my drink, it tastes like it always does, the weather is mild, and everyone around me seems relatively cheery. Talk about a messed up day.

  


* * *

  


So what cynical thing are you guys covering this time?”

 _“This girl Lenina is in love with Foster, but she decides to forget him by taking soma again,”_ he explains. _“Now he’s known as The Savage and all that.”_

You know, maybe soma actually exists in this world. Maybe that’s the reason he disappeared and no one knows anything. He’s all drugged up with some imaginary—or I guess not so imaginary if we’re working on the assumption that it exists—medical revolution and he can’t function even to call or text.

Wait no. Unless he’s out of the house somewhere, then he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. I don’t think he mentioned that he does any kind of drugs either. No way Shiro would allow that. If Shiro doesn’t seem disturbed, then there’s no way Keith isn’t safe at home, right? Right?

 _“Doing okay, man?”_ Kinkade asks, his face squished together probably mimicking the way mine looks right now.

I sign an “OK” with my fingers, but he refuses to get back to work. _“Talk. I’ve got this stuff covered and you know it.”_

_“I’m not talking to a kid about my problems.”_

He shrugs. _“You didn’t seem so worried about it the last time.”_

I sigh. _“It’s just a stupid soulmate-related thing. I don’t know if I wanna get into it.”_

_“That guy?”_

_“Yeah. That guy.”_

_“Well,”_ he rolls his shoulders back to relieve tension, _“whatever’s going on, he better not be being a dick. I need my tutor in tip-top shape.”_

_“Language.”_

_“Oldie.”_

_“Childie.”_

_“Your comebacks need work.”_

I scoff. _“I think you need to get back to work.”_

He gives a mock salute and we get back into it. The whole time I can’t get the image out of my head of Keith sitting below with with that hungry look in his eyes. What I wouldn’t give to play with his stupid hair so I can see the satisfaction on his stupid face that gives me stupid butterflies.

Stupid.

  


* * *

  


It’s been 20 minutes since my shift ended and everyone has long since headed home. Linda passed me with a worried look on her way home from the club. I’m sure she’s seen me with Keith a thousand times, so the image of me alone probably doesn’t settle well with her. I waved her off. I wish I hadn’t. God. Fuck this.

Wait. Actually? _Fuck this._ I need to get home and get work done and I’m pretty sure it’s more unnerving to stand here as an easy target in front of an obviously closed building. I have to leave and I’m leaving with or without him.

I take a deep breath and plunge into my fears. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. You’ve done this before with Keith and nothing even vaguely threatening happened. God those footsteps sound close. No wait. They’re walking the opposite way. You’re good. You don’t need his stupid self to walk you home. You don’t. You’re not gonna get mugged and no one’s gonna break your arm.

For a second I turn around to see if he’s gonna run up like he did before. He’s never disappointed me. If I wait a second I know he’ll be here.

Ha. Good one, Lance.

Somehow I make it to the steps of my apartment building, but relief isn’t what I feel. This is supposed to be a triumph. It is, too. I’ve haven’t been this proud of myself in a while. It just sucks that he’s ruining it by being the reason I had to confront it on my own.

Oh screw him I just walked home on my own. I can do anything. I don’t need someone to hold my hand.

  


* * *

  


“Lance?” a soft voice calls out.

I turn to find Shay lightly jogging in my direction with a smile on her face. It falters when she gets a few feet away. Apparently I look more miserable than I thought.

I got her number from Hunk the other day because I forgot to ask her for it when she was over. It’s nice to not have to hold up my phone every time I wanna say something. _“Hey. How are you?”_

“I believe you know that I should be asking you that,” she says.

I try to keep it together, but a sigh escapes me anyways. She helped me fix things with Keith before, so maybe it’s in my best interest to talk with her.

 _“Can we go somewhere and talk?”_ I have the usual place in mind, but then I remember. _“Maybe not the coffee shop since Shiro and Allura are probably there.”_

“Of course.”

The literature and languages building is empty for the most part. There are desks with partitions so that people don’t get distracted by their seat neighbors. On the second floor there’s an almost room that’s only not one because there’s a medium-sized gap instead of a door. We slip in and sit across each other at the small round table so she can see my reactions. I should feel intimidated by her, but I know she’s just trying to gauge my reactions. People tell me all the time that everything shows in my face and body language.

“What is bothering you at the moment?” she prompts.

_“A lot.” She waits for me to go on. _“Basically Keith and I had a fight (shocker) about me having a soulmate. He kept saying that it doesn’t make sense for us to do anything together ‘cause I have a soulmate and he—”_ I delete the “and he” and keep typing, _“and it’s not him. I don’t know how to explain myself and he’s been ignoring my texts and he didn’t walk me home last night.”__

__

She tilts her head. “Does he usually walk you home?”

 _“We have this whole thing where he walks me home at night after my shift ‘cause I’m scared of the dark like a wuss.”_ The last part slips out, but it’s not like I haven’t been telling everyone stupid things anyways. Might as well just let this one go.

She blows right past it like I said I was scared of spiders and not something that only kids fear. “That is odd that he would not honor your agreement. What is it that you plan to do?”

_“As per usual, I have no fucking clue.”_

I get that he’s uncomfortable with the soulmate issue. Honestly, I am too. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep him by my side. Keith is...well, Keith. He slipped into my life and now he’s settled in our little circle just like Pidge. It’s like both of them were always there in spirit if not in a physical way. Their marks may not show up on my skin, but I have no doubt their bond is just as important.

I chose to risk being with him, and I thought he did too, but I guess I’m wrong. Maybe he doesn’t want me and he’d rather run off for good instead of working this out. He might not give me the option to chase after him anymore. Not like it’s my preferred way of doing things, but I’d chase him down this time if he’d be willing to give me the chance. I don’t think he’s giving me that chance anymore. 

“Lance?” Shay pops my bubble. “You are thinking. I have heard and seen what happens when you think too much.”

I’m breathing shallower than I have in a while and I have to take a second before I can regain enough focus to text her. _“He’s running away for good.”_

“I am sure that is not—”

I shake my head until I’m left blinking to get my head on straight. _“When he left he said that he doesn’t think he wants this. How did I miss that?”_

I stand up and I’m about to disappear around the corner before smiling at her and waving. I know what to do now.

I have to do nothing.

  


* * *

  


I wait and wait and wait for that doorbell to ring. Maybe he’ll knock this time. Who knows? Maybe he’s hesitating outside the door trying to figure out the right way to apologize. No matter how many scenarios I run through in my head, he never finds his way into my apartment. 

Pidge had to go out for some group project so I’m left to my own devices for the first time on a Wednesday. I don’t remember the kitchen being so spacious or the couch being so wide. I don’t remember my laptop being so loud or how thick the apartment walls must be ‘cause there’s nothing else. 

I settle for the couch instead of my bed to produce some sense of normality. I take off the band on my wrist so I can check my soulmate every few minutes or so. I don’t bring it to my face, so I don’t get to relish in the glow. Part of me hopes that it’ll change, but the more and more I look, the more I know that hope is rushing away as fast as it can.

_I can’t do this._

  


* * *

  


Hunk ran off to do club-related work right after Zarkon’s class, so I try to find some solace in the fact that I can relax at Altea. Except I pause at the door. Someone pushes past me to get out of the shop ‘cause I’m paralyzed. I’m basically in the midst of a friendship-ending fight with Shiro’s pseudo-brother and I’m a little worried about what might be done to my coffee.

Okay let’s face it Shiro would never do something like that, but let me be dramatic!

Even so, I’m probably gonna lose all of this when Keith finally ends things. That sucks. I’ll have to go back to campus coffee. Guess I’ll be breaking out the whiteboard more often.

My limbs melt enough so I can walk away, but a hand grabs my shoulder successfully causing me to flinch. It’s Allura with bright eyes and bushy hair. Not unlike Shay, her eyes lose a bit of their light when she can see me in my entirety.

“Oh my,” she starts. “What happened to you?”

_“I’m fine. Just exhausted.”_

She crosses her arms and juts a hip to the side. “And that explains why you’re slinking away from the best coffee shop in the world?”

_“I just—”_

“Is this about Keith?” I nod. “Alright, I’ll sneak you a drink and we’ll go somewhere to talk. You look deathly.”

If I hadn’t run into her, I don’t know how I would’ve survived the rest of the day. Coffee-based energy floods my system to the point where I don’t have to struggle to keep my eyes open. I’m still a bit foggy, but that has nothing to do with my lack of caffeine.

“Well, I can’t tell you how he’s been doing because I don’t know,” she tells me. “Shiro seems to be acting stranger than usual, though. I assume he either knows that you two aren’t doing so well or that Keith has been acting up all on his own.”

I wrap an arm around myself and hold tight. _“Yeah. We had a fight and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”_

She hums and places her elbows on top of the two-person table in the sciences building. It wobbles and yet the only person to lose their balance is me. “What kind of a fight?”

_“Soulmate stuff.”_

“You know all about that, huh?”

It’s not a question. _“We had this thing going and then he got upset ‘cause he’s convinced I’m gonna replace in the future once my actual soulmate comes along.”_ I huff. _“And how is that my fault? I didn’t pick my soulmate. I can’t just drop them and leave them to wonder what’s wrong with them.”_

“There’re always platonic soulmates.”

_“I know that, but I’m pretty sure it’s not platonic.”_

“So you’re just giving up?”

I shrug. _“What else am I supposed to do? He won’t talk to me and he won’t see me, so I’m pretty sure he’s not all that willing to work things out with me.”_

“Keith is…” she pauses, pushing her lips to the side in thought, “...he’s not very good with his words. When he’s uncomfortable he either attacks when it’s someone he hates or runs when it’s someone he cares about. I’ve had plenty of my own arguments with him and he has hidden away until one of us is able to coax him out of the Keith-sized hole he digs.” She places her hand on top of mine. “He cares about you. I promise.”

He has a funny way of showing it. If he actually cared, he’d come out of hiding and figure this out _with_ me instead of pretending his problems don’t exist. I know he doesn’t want this with me anymore, but the least he could do is reveal that information to me out loud.

Allura wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me in. “I know he’s a lot, but he’s worth every minute.” She pushes back and smiles fondly at me. “Would you like me to talk to him for you?”

 _“No,”_ I respond. _“This is between us and I don’t want to put you in the middle of our bullshit.”_

“It’s not bullshit. You two are just dramatic.” She chuckles. “You’re actually the two most dramatic people I know besides Shiro.”

_“Shiro?”_

“He got a papercut the other day and had a panic attack because he thought he was contaminating the entire store.”

Shiro’s entire life is a façade and I’m gonna have a talk with myself later about actually paying attention ‘cause _that is the funniest shit ever._

I give her a small smile. _“I’ve got this, Allura. Thanks.”_

She drops her hands from my shoulders and stands up. “I have to get back to the shop. Are you going to be okay?”

I shoot her the “OK” hand sign and I know she knows it’s weak. She knows when to back off, though, so she just squeezes my shoulder one more time and heads out into the cool air.

I won’t get anyone else involved in this. I don’t want anyone having to worry about me. Keith can have all the worry and sympathy he wants. I need to be better than that.

  


* * *

  


I don’t understand the whole gum phenomenon. I remember around middle school everyone started chewing gum all the time whether or not they actually needed to. Everyone carried around a pack of it and, weirdly enough, everyone was asking everyone else for a piece. You couldn’t take out a pack without getting mauled. Knowing all this, I still don’t understand why this girl in front of me, Aiden, is talking with a wad of it in her mouth.

“Can we stop talking about math for a second and address the elephant in the room?” she asks. Her speech is slightly garbled due to the fact that she lost most of her hearing when she was a kid and has to rely on a hearing aid. I haven’t had a student before that was so adamant to talk instead of sign when they had an obvious speech issue. I guess I know what it’s like to want to be heard.

_“What do you mean?”_

“You’re upset about something and it’s throwing me off.”

I raise an eyebrow. _“I’m not upset about any—”_

“I think it’s about a girl,” she states. “Or a boy, I guess. I don’t know which way you swing.” She spits the piece of gum out into its wrapper and tosses the whole thing into the small trash can a few feet away. Her little victory pose would be more endearing if she wasn’t suggesting that I’m the most obvious mess in the world.

_“I’m not upset.”_

“My friend looked like your face does not,” she says as if I didn’t sign anything. “She told me she was having trouble talking to her boyfriend about soulmate issues. Neither one of them is sure if they’re each other’s soulmate, which is why they’re constantly stressing. They’re trying to work through it.” She snickers. “Ironic that she’s asking the deaf girl for help with communication. I guess my boyfriend and I are doing pretty well, though.”

I hate when people somehow hit the nail right on the head when I haven’t said a thing. Even so, maybe I can take this chance to work through this perpetual puzzle. I don’t know if it’s possible for a high school kid to help me out, but Kinkade’s been a well of wisdom lately, so it couldn’t hurt. God I am so lame.

_“What did she end up doing?”_

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I think she just kept trying to talk to him and somehow it worked?” Well, that would be a great suggestion if I could actually get him to talk to me. “Why?”

I hold my hands out in front of me. _“No reason.”_

She eyes me warily, but turns back to the subject matter at hand. I follow her example and question her on the value of a limit of a graph in her Calculus homework.

“Easy,” she tells me as if I’m supposed to know what I’m doing instead of just reading answers out of a teacher’s guide. “The limit does not exist.”

Neither does the limit on how stupid my life is.

  


* * *

  


**V: Did things work out with you and Keith?**

**Me: Well, they did for two seconds.**

**V: And?**

**Me: And then things fell apart again ‘cause we’re both the biggest idiots in the world.**

**V: What.**  
**V: The.**  
**V: Hell.**  
**V: What the fuck did he do???**

**Me: It’s fine.**

I’m about to send her _“don’t worry”_ before my laptop starts ringing with a notification that I have an incoming Skype call. Oh god. I don’t need this today. She’s out for the kill.

I click the accept call button and the second the video buffers, Vero’s hands go flying.

_“What did that pendejo do!?”_

_“Why do you assume it wasn’t my fault?”_

_“Was it?” She gives me a stern look rivaling Mamá’s and crosses her arms. I have a feeling she’s asking for more than just an explanation of what happened on the day of the fight. She wants me to tell her everything. Considering things are no doubt ending between me and Keith, I might as well tell Vero the whole story._

__

So I word (see: hand) vomit all over the place. I tell her about his lack of a soulmark and our problems ever since I found out about it. I tell her about how we decided to start whatever this is and he ran away the second he remembered that someday I might have to leave him for my soulmate. She stays quiet through it all, but I can feel see the vulture in her come swirling down from the sky towards me. In this case? I’m dying and she’s about to rip me apart.

 _“Are you okay, Space Cadet?”_ she asks. Oh wait. Maybe I’m gonna survive this. I shake my head. _“Good because you’re in deep shit with me right now.”_

Welp.

 _“Why would you get involved with someone who doesn’t have a soulmate? No. I’m phrasing that wrong. Why would you get involved with someone while you have a soulmate and then doom him to negative feelings for as long as he’s around? It’d be one thing if you were planning to be with Keith and be platonic with your soulmate, but no. You’ve still got it in your spacey head that you can have both.”_ She takes a deep breath and locks eyes with me. _“I love you with all my heart, but you’re hurting him just like he’s hurting you.”_

Everything I’ve been holding in these last few days falls out of me. I’m a sobbing mess and I wish Vero could be here to hold me alongside the rest of my family. I know I fucked up. I know he fucked up. I know _we’re_ fucked up. Everything is too much and that’s because I finally understand. I knew from the beginning that I was only ever meant to have my soulmate. Nothing else can ever happen.

I don’t mean to hurt him. Sometimes my head says “fuck it” and I end up getting a “fuck you” back from the people I screw over. I don’t deserve his radio silence, but he doesn’t deserve me see-sawing with him. 

“Oh, man,” Vero coos. “I’m sorry.”

I wipe my eyes and wheeze out a laugh. I can sign, but my hands are still shaky. _“You didn’t do this to us so don’t apologize.”_

_“I know, but I might’ve been a little harsh with you.”_

I dismiss her with my hands. _“I needed you to be harsh with me.”_

She gives a soft smile. She may be a vulture, but she only tears me apart to remove the decay and allow for something new to grow. My mamá has a way of soothing me too, but it’s Vero that gets me to see through to my bullshit so that things can get better.

 _“There’s no way to contact him?”_ she asks.

_“I can text him, but he hasn’t been responding.”_

She taps her fingers on her upper arms and looks down to think. Her glasses slip a tiny bit and she pushes them up in a way similar to the way Pidge does it: two fingers on one side. _“If you think things are over, then why don’t you say something to get a clean cut?”_

I flick my eyes downward. _“I don’t know if I can do it.”_

 _“You can do it,”_ she says with a determined gaze. _“You got away from Nyma.”_

_“I know.”_

I hear wailing from beyond her door. Her focus falters and her expression becomes apologetic. _“I have to go.”_

I sniffle and then smile, the most genuine and appreciative one I’ve made in a while. _“Go. Leo needs you more than I do.”_

_“Te amo, Space Cadet.”_

_“Te amo, Earthworm.”_

Who knows if he’s around or awake or if he still has his phone, but I take this forward momentum and type out a carefully worded message so that I can find some peace of mind amongst all of this. It fucking hurts and I feel so anxious that I’m sick, but I need to do this to get through. I can do this.

The worst part is that I don’t hate him. I just know that he resents me. I don’t wanna keep making him run away from me and then come back with some idea that I’m gonna be a better person. I’m not good or put together or special in any way. I’m just me and he’s him. No doubt that’s why he’s not my soulmate. He’s too good for me and I messed everything up. Guess it’s too late to tell him all that. I just have to pick the important parts. Nothing more and nothing less.

 **Me: Hey. I just wanted to say some things. I know you won’t respond, but that’s not the point, so hopefully you’ll just read this instead.**  
**Me: I’m sorry. I don’t know how to take back the things I said and did, but I’m sorry. I know this is my fault. You’re right that I act like things are gonna be perfectly fine even when no one knows if that’s true. I think I got carried away, like usual, and I wasn’t seeing what was in front of me. I was more concerned with the words on my wrist than making sure you were okay. Turns out you weren’t and I’m a fucking idiot. I don’t wanna draw things out if you’re hurting like this. I don’t want a response or an apology. Really this is me just saying sorry. This is me saying goodbye.**

With that I turn my phone off and chuck it across the room far far away from me. Not like I care anymore, but it doesn’t hit the wall and instead makes a dull thump against the carpet. I don’t want it anywhere near me while it vibrates with notifications that are never gonna be from him.

  


* * *

  


I manage to get out of bed and create a pillow and blanket nest in one corner of the couch. The last of the mint chip ice cream is lingering in a puddle at the bottom of the carton. I don’t want it to be gone.

Pidge gives me a concerned look from my side. “Do you want actual food with your dessert?”

I shake my head and throw the blankets around my shoulders, tugging them as tight as I can.

I know I’m being stupid. It doesn’t actually matter whether or not he’s around. We weren’t serious. It’s not even technically a break-up. It’s more like he broke our friendship by not getting back to me and I ended it to save me the anxiety. It’s mutual even if he never told me his side. He up and disappeared without a word and I’m stuck feeling like a dumbass.

When Hunk comes out of his room for a study break, he squeezes my shoulder and announces that he’s making dinner for all of us. My stomach is sick and I tell him as much. He doesn’t care and gets to cooking anyways. I know I need him to be overbearing. I just have a hard time keeping my brain from dumb thoughts.

Part of me wants them to leave me alone. I know I’m this pitiful sack right now, but I can handle things. I just need to flush all the negativity out. The only way to do that right now, though, is to let them be concerned. I just don’t want them to think that I need to lean on people every time something goes wrong. I don’t wanna put that responsibility on them. They’ve got their own soulmates, their own problems, their own lives. Next week I’m gonna make sure they take a step back and let me do this. I can do this.

I finished our physics assignments on my own. I visited Altea on my own even when it fucking killed to see Shiro and knew he wasn’t gonna tell me a thing. I walked home on my own. I did everything that I thought I couldn’t and survived it. I don’t need him.

I just _want_ him.

Stop. Get that thought out. He’s not worth the energy or the tears. I rub at my eyes to control the water threatening at the corners of my eyes.

A small body presses up against my nest and I sigh. Thank god for Pidge and their affectionate nature. I never thought I’d be on the receiving end of it, but I’m lucky to be.

The clatter of plates approaches from behind and Hunk places three on the coffee table. Green enchiladas steam and melt the sour cream on top. My mamá always made this on my worst days.

I let the tears fall this time, tiny sobs escaping in the form of hitching breaths. I think Pidge’s head leans into my shoulder while they murmur something under their breath I’m sure is supposed to be reassuring. Hunk sits on the couch arm rest and rubs my back.

“We’re here,” Hunk says in a soothing tone. “We’re here.”

When I can finally see straight, I find a tissue box has been magically summoned into my lap. All that’s left of me is a sniffling mess, so maybe it’d be nice to clean up a little. Hunk moved our tiny trash can from my room to my feet, so now I can throw the tissues out without having to move. He really is the best friend a guy could’ve asked for.

I take a few deep breaths to settle myself as much as possible. The only thing that can help me at the moment is food. I dive into the enchiladas and savor the memories of home that come with them. If Vero were here, she’d laugh at all my sniveling and drag me out to the small clearing near our house to watch the stars. We’d go over them a billion times until I could state which constellations contained which stars. I knew them all by heart, but it didn’t matter ‘cause we’d go out there without fail whenever one of us needed it.

My mamá always said that food cures most ailments and she’s right. I’m not entirely back to who I want to be, but at least I have the energy to do some assignments. I can’t let Zarkon catch me slipping. Wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

I dismantle my nest and throw the remnants into a heap on the floor. If I’m desperate enough I know I’ll pick them up later. Right now, all I need to focus on are my textbooks and the sorry excuses for notes from class.

I barely notice the knock at the door, but what I do notice is Pidge’s voice growing more and more agitated. I hope they and Romelle aren’t fighting. It sounds bad if they are. I’ve never heard Pidge raise their voice like that before.

I peek out through the crack in my door and try to see beyond them, but it’s no use. They’re barely holding the front door open in the first place. I slip out, curiosity getting the better of me, but I still can’t see anything.

“You lost your chance to explain when you ignored him all week,” Pidge says darkly. “I’m not letting you anywhere near him.”

No.

I walk towards them while my brain screams for me to stop before things get worse. I know they’ll get worst, ‘cause right in front of me is the source of all my problems.

“Hey.”

“Out.” Pidge pushes the door shut a little more, but Keith resists with a push of his own.

“I need to talk to him,” he pleads.

 _“Let him in,”_ I sign to Pidge. Lately they’ve been getting better with their signing, so it doesn’t take long for my words to sink in.

They don’t loosen their hold on the door just yet. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

I nod and they step back to let the door swing open, causing Keith to trip into our living room. Unfortunately he keeps his balance and doesn’t smack his face into the carpet. I would’ve loved to see that.

I lead us to my bedroom without sparing another glance at him. If he brought himself here, then I know he’s following.

I cross my arms and lean against the wall nearest my door and wait. I wait for him to say anything that could possibly excuse running away for this long. He shifts his weight from side to side, plays with the pens and pencils in the coffee cup I use to hold them, and altogether won’t stop taking up space. I’ve never thought of my room as small before, but now it’s cramped.

“I’m sorry.”

I narrow my eyes at this mess of a boy. _“You’re sorry?”_

“I’m an idiot. I know.”

The sadness is replaced by anger pouring from me in buckets. _“You’re more than an idiot.”_

“I’m a dick. I’m a fuck-up. I’m a loser.” He throws his hands into the air. “What do you want me to say, Lance?”

I press the heels of my hands into my eyes. _“I want you to tell me why.”_

I hear the creak of the floorboards beneath my carpet. When I remove my hands, he’s standing even further away than before. Whether consciously or unconsciously, he’s found his way into his favorite spot.

“I couldn’t figure it out at first. Nothing past knowing you’re not my soulmate and it’s frustrating,” he explains. “In the last week I couldn’t stop picturing my dad when I was a kid. He always tried to be as happy as possible, but sometimes I could see that sadness peeking through when he thought I wasn’t looking. I know what it looks like to lose your soulmate, to not have the person you love by your side.”

He takes a ragged breath and keeps going. “I know all that and yet I can’t help but get closer to you. I know I’ll just end up like my dad. I know that I’m gonna get thrown away in the end and there’s nothing I can do about it. Seeing your soulmark just...broke me? I don’t know how to explain it. 

“For some reason I’m here trying to tell you that it’s not your fault and it’s mine. I’m the fucked up one. I shouldn’t have given into my fucking impulses and kissed you. I should’ve just left it alone because this—”

He doesn’t cry, but a sob escapes him. I lean down a little to make sure he can read my lips. “Keith? Breathe.”

He tries and I sigh while he regains some semblance of composure. _“You’re not your dad and this isn’t the same thing he went through.”_

“It is. Who knows what’ll happen between us before you meet your soulmate. I don’t want to get in the way of that.” More quietly, “I don’t want to be the reason you have to choose.”

_“We don’t know what’s gonna happen.”_

“Yeah. We don’t. That’s exactly why I shouldn’t be anywhere near you. I could ruin everything by fucking with your feelings and I don’t want to make things harder than they already are.”

_“That’s a thousand miles from now.”_

“He’s your soulmate and I’m—”

_“OH FUCK SOULMATES!”_

I want to scream, punch a wall, kick him out of my life so there’s no trace of him left. More than anything, though? I’m exhausted. Among all the worrying about what I did wrong and why he would leave, I was also constantly thinking of where he might be. He could’ve been hurt for all I know. He could’ve run off without telling anyone and disappeared from, not only my life, but everyone’s lives.

“Fuck...soulmates?” he asks, my words not computing.

I huff and sit down on my nest pile. I can’t stand anymore. There’s nothing left to keep me up.

 _“Yeah. Fuck soulmates,”_ I repeat. _“Fuck soulmates and the universe and everything that’s in the way of us being together.”_ I flick my eyes up to the ceiling, searching beyond as if I could see whoever pulls the strings if I try hard enough. _“I know there’s someone I’m technically destined to be with and it’s not you, but I honestly don’t care anymore. If the universe is wrong about you, then maybe it’s wrong about me, too. Maybe I’m here in this moment ‘cause the universe made a mistake and it pushed me towards you as way of repenting. I don’t know. All I know is I don’t give a fuck anymore.”_

He sits down too, taking in deep breaths without me having to guide him. “You don’t mean that.”

_“Look me in the eyes and tell me I don’t mean it.”_

His eyes dart away a few times before I can lock him down, but his face melts when he sees that I do mean it. I’m done talking about this barrier because of my soulmate. He’ll get over it. If I have to make the bond platonic through force, then I will. I want to kick Keith’s ass, but I also don’t want to lose the idiot.

“So you mean it,” he says finally.

I crawl over to him and sit in front of him where he’s tucking his knees into his chest. I grab his ankles and pull them out so I’m between his legs. He’s got nowhere to go since he’s up against my mattress, so he’s forced to stay where I want him.

Just like that my arms are around his neck, pulling him as close as I possibly can. He’s okay. All I needed to know was that he’s okay and that we’re both idiots and things aren’t ruined beyond repair.

I push back so he can read my lips. _“You scared the shit out of me.”_

He pushes his head against my collarbone and looks down. “I’m sorry.”

He needs to stop looking away just like I need to make decisions on my own from now on. The only thing that matters is what I want, universe and everyone else be damned.

_“Stop running away.”_

His lip trembles and I lean it to stop it. He’s cold despite his usual fire. He’s not trying to devour me, but maybe that’s because I need to move slowly and he’s respecting that. I just need a few seconds to get lost in him because he’s here. I hate that he came in and I forgave him so easily, but sometimes you do stupid shit for the people you love.

Oh. Love.

I wheeze laughter in light of my revelation. Yeah, I love him. We keep pushing at each other and running and miscommunicating and no matter what, we always come back to each other. We’re unhealthy where we’re at, but we can be better. I want us to get better.

“What?” he asks, resting his hands at my sides.

_“I was just thinking about how stupid we both are.”_

“No denying that.”

I kiss him in other places. I start with his forehead, his temple, his nose, his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, and repeat. His body relaxes with every one and a hum vibrates from his chest. I pull away to get a view of him closing his eyes, the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen him.

He opens them and cracks a smile when he catches me staring. “What?”

I return the smile and shake my head. I press against his lips this time and gradually we open up to each other. Keith’s letting me take the lead for once and I can’t say I don’t enjoy it. His hands trace symbols with no discernable form on my skin and it feels right. He tugs at the hem of my t-shirt and I lift it over my head and discard it haphazardly.

He does the same and he looks just as good a I thought he would. I run my hands up his chest and onto his shoulders and he lets out a tiny gasp.

“Lance?” he borderline whispers.

_“Yeah?”_

“I want to.”

If he means what I think he means, I’m gonna need a little more confirmation than that.

_“You want to what?”_

“You know.” He shifts.

_“I need you to say it, kitten.”_

He nuzzles into the crook of my neck. “Sleep with me.”

He looks up at me and I definitely know he means what I think he meant. _“Are you sure this isn’t a rushed decision? I don’t want you to freak out later.”_

He stands up and holds a hand out. When he pulls me up he scoots back onto my bed and doesn’t let go of my left hand. He kisses along the edges of my band and peeks at me. “Take this off, too.”

A small part of me is terrified that he’ll get spooked again, but I obey, if only to test myself. If I really love Keith, it won’t matter what’s there. All that matters is that it’s a part of me that I can share with him that we can both accept isn’t ideal, but it is what it is. 

_You deserve to be happy._

I guess my soulmate is cheering us on from the sidelines.

When clothes are off and we can see every inch of each other without walls as tall as the outer atmosphere, I ask him for the thousandth time, _“Are you sure?”_

For the thousandth time, he answers, “Yes.”

I get to enjoy this without guilt. I don’t fear the day when my soulmate comes around. I can trust them to understand my position and we’ll find a way to make things work. All I wanna focus on is the way Keith’s back curves and the breathy moans he tries to hold back until I white out.

His body is a heater next to me which is why I notice right away when he sits up at the edge of my bed. I reach out with both arms and wrap myself around him.

_“Stay.”_

I’m only semi-surprised when he slips back under the sheets and becomes snug against my chest. I kiss the spot on his wrist where I made a hickey in the same place he made one on my own wrist. If we can’t share a soulmark bond, we might as well make our own marks. The universe may have forgotten that part, but we’ll make it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's posting early to make up for the other week??????
> 
> ALSO YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I'VE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER OMG
> 
> Special shout-out to @readingpast12 for guessing the movie last chapter! It was _Trick 'r Treat_ and it's seriously amazing so go watch it. My girl Aiden is named after her suggestion so you can thank her for that. I loved placing her in the story. She's a funny little student.
> 
> Thank you guys for all your support and oh my god this hit 1000 kudos??? Thank you again???
> 
> Without further ado, I will begin writing the next chapter! See y'all soon.
> 
>  **Tumblr:** [@TeddyKrueger](https://teddykrueger.tumblr.com/)


	11. Announcement!

Hey guys! Work on chapter 11 is underway and I'm so so so close to finishing it. 

For the meantime, I wanted to give you guys a little something to tide you over. Introducing, Mirror My Mind!

It's really just a little bit of extra content from Keith's POV. I'm thinking of doing a couple more of him for some of the other chapters, but for now, I've got a bit of chapter 1. All you have to do is click "Next Work" at the top of the page where it says the Echo My Heart series. 

Hope you guys enjoy and I'll see you again soon!

P.S. If you're too lazy to click "Next Work", I'm just gonna place the link to it [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17124623/chapters/40274348)


	12. Deaf, Dumb, and Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is actually a chapter!

When I wake up to a warm body at my side, I jolt away from its grasp, only to be pulled in even closer. I blink a few times to clear my vision before melting into his arms because Keith is _still here._

I swim through this heady haze while I examine eyelashes that may be shorter than average, but they’re thick in a way no mascara could replicate. The slackness of his mouth allows for a trickle of saliva to drip, but I can’t help but chuckle silently in response because he’s still here.

I thumb the saliva away and his eyes flutter at the contact, opening just enough to meet my own.

He’s still here he’s still here he’s still here.

“Hi,” he grunts out, sleep still heavy in his voice.

_“Hi,” I reply, oh-so smartly._

The corner of his lip quirks up and I have to kiss it before it leaves. His smile grows wider at that and he presses a kiss of his own on my lips, licking just as he pulls away. It’s just as sweet as last night, but this time I know for a fact it’s mine. The next steps don’t seem so hard in comparison. We’ve got this. As long as we stick together, I think we’ll do pretty okay.

I put my forehead against his and just breathe him in. His hair still smells like artificial cinnamon even though he hasn’t been able to wash it since yesterday or maybe the day before. It’s warm and fiery like his skin whenever we touch.

He runs the fingers of his left hand up and down my spine and I release a sigh that for the first time in a week stems from contentment instead of frustration. His breaths tickle my face and I run a thumb across his cheek. Even in my cross-eyed state I know that tearing my eyes away from him would be the mistake of the semester. Probably the century, but I’m trying to be a little less dramatic than usual. Reality is so much sweeter.

Well, I do have to drag myself away at some point. I have a habit to keep up with and I’m not letting it die today. I lift his arm off me and bring his wrist to my lips. My eyes close for a millisecond before I realize there’s a blue glow.

I tap him rapidly.

He rolls over and groans. “Lance, come on, it still hurts.”

I flip his wrist around so he can see and he squints his eyes like he’s not seeing right. Hell, I don’t think I’m seeing right either. I turn it towards myself again and it’s still there. He yanks his arm out of my grasp and holds it close so he can read the words over and over again.

“ _‘Oh fuck soulmates…’_ ” His expression turns bewildered and his breaths are heavier.

_“My words,”_ I mouth slowly.

“Your words,” he agrees.

All at once every nerve in my body bursts and I’m all over Keith in an instant, kissing every inch of him I possibly can. I know it. I don’t need to look at the words on my wrist. That doesn’t matter because I know he’s _mine mine mine._

“Lance,” he hisses through his laughter. “Seriously that hurts.”

I smack my lips against his and pull away so I can take in everything. _“I’m awake right? You didn’t just draw on your arm with sharpie or something?”_

“Lance—”

_“But how could you even make it glow like that? Maybe you found something that makes it glow. Oh yeah! Like glow sticks! Except you can’t really see those in the light. Maybe I should close the blinds and check. I mean, it’s not like I think you’d mess with me like that, but I just can’t—”_

Hands slap over my mouth. Keith’s giggle escapes. “You’re rambling.”

If I could help it, I would, but considering Keith is my soulmate somehow and _oh my god wait how does he have a soulmate now?!_

But he’s got me melting to pieces and all I want to do is grab him up and never let him go. We have time for the hows and whys later. He’s too gorgeous to pass up.

I run a finger dangerously close to where I know he wants my hands most and he shivers.

_“Can we do it again?”_

He grumbles something about being sore, but he takes no time in working to get my lips to open up to his tongue. If he thinks he’s sore now...

  


* * *

  


“Lance,” _kiss_ “I have to go” _kiss_ “help Shiro with” _kiss_ “the shop,” he finishes breathlessly.

_“Are you sure about that?”_ I tease.

He groans and tucks his head into the crook of my shoulder. “If he didn’t make it sound like the whole place was gonna get shut down and if Allura was already there, I would stay without question.”

I click my tongue. _“Shiro is way too dramatic for his own good.”_

“Well, on the off chance the store is actually burning down, I have to believe the boy sans the wolf.”

_“The only one who gets to eat you up is me.”_

The tips of his ears turn pink. “You’re cheesy as hell.”

_“Only for you.”_

We lock eyes and he leans in for a goodbye kiss. I squeeze his hand before he has the chance to pull away completely, and when he’s out the door, nothing seems real.

He’s my soulmate.

I can’t dwell on that right now though. It’s time to research. I don’t want this to be some fluke where it’s there today and then it disappears tomorrow. I need to know if there’s a way to keep it there for as long as Keith wants to be with me. Google, help a guy out.

Before I get comfy in bed and delve into the rabbit hole, I remember my state of being the last time I talked to Vero. Maybe I should let her know that things turned out okay before our next Skype call. She should probably be the first person to know considering she’s the one who pushed me to get my feelings out there.

**Me: Sooo things with Keith worked out.**  
**Me: Like, really worked out.**  
**Me: REALLY worked out.**  
**Me: ;)))))**  
**Me: Anyways…**  
**Me: Thanks :)**

She doesn’t respond immediately. I’m sure she’s asleep or busy or whatever. She’ll get to me when she gets to me. The only thing to worry about right at this moment is the whole soulmark thing that Keith suddenly has.

I refuse to let anything take that away from me.

  


* * *

  


_“Would I be wrong in thinking something good happened or is your face just messed up today?”_ Kinkade signs.

_“I’ll have you know my face could never be messed up.”_

He leans forward. _“Could’ve fooled me.”_

I flip him off and scoff. Been a while since I’ve come to work in this good of a mood. I can focus on teaching Kinkade instead of dwelling on all the bullshit. Of course we’re not even working on his homework, but that’s besides the point.

_“But really, what’s going on?”_

I don’t want anyone hearing what we’re talking about, so I hide my mouthing. _“Remember that guy I told you about?”_

He wiggles his eyebrows. _“The one you’re in love with.”_

_“He’s my soulmate.”_

He takes a second and scratches his temple. _“I thought you said he wasn’t?”_

_“I’m not exactly sure how, but his soulmark went from non-existent to projecting my thoughts. I don’t know if it’s permanent, but he’s mine either way and I’m freaking out in the best way possible.”_

His face softens and he claps me on the shoulder. _“Good for you man.”_

God if I don’t full-on beam at that.

_“Makes me wonder about that kid from middle school,”_ he muses. _“I wonder if he found a soulmate.”_ I have no idea who he’s talking about. _“He’s the kid we all gave shit for not having a soulmark. Kinda reminds me of all that.”_

Oh yeah. If only I could find him. Maybe he got a soulmark too and he can explain to me what the heck is going on. The internet isn’t relinquishing the universe’s secrets, but maybe he could enlighten me. 

Oh well. Can’t have all the luck.

  


* * *

  


“You think this kid might know what’s going on?” 

_“Yeah,”_ I mouth to Keith, _“but there’s no way we’ll ever find him. Kinkade’s the same age and he’s still a minor. I have no idea how impossible it would be to track him down.”_

He hums. “Too bad.”

_“Too bad.”_

He places his head on my shoulder for a quick second and then kisses the same place. “Maybe for right now we shouldn’t question it. I wanna enjoy this for now.”

I wrap an arm around his waist. Enjoying this doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

  


* * *

  


_Vero calling._

A blooping tone accompanies the message on my laptop screen and I click “answer” without hesitation.

_“Took you long enough,”_ I sign.

“I should be telling you that,” she retorts. Leave it to her to sass me about good news.

_“I sent you a message first. You’re the one that took your time getting back to me. And with a Skype call, no less.”_

“Nadia broke my phone before I could get to it,” she explains. “I was texting Acxa way too much for her taste and she was decidedly not okay with that. She snuck it away when I was putting Leó to bed. I asked her to give it back, but she doesn’t remember where she buried it in the backyard.”

Oof. Nadia always was the trickster of the family. She’s the reason I refused to use my DS around her when I was in high school. Somehow it’d end up on top of the china cabinet that reached the ceiling. I don’t know what Luis is doing, but his kids are pure monsters no matter how cute they act.

Vero regains her hold on the present and whips around to trap me in her gaze. “Okay, real talk. Spill.”

I lick my lips and proceed to bite them to hold back the smile threatening to break my face. _“Oh? And what would you like me to spill about, my dear hermana?”_

“I,” she glances around, “fucking told you so.”

I begin to sign the news, but she interrupts.

“You two are so stupid. I can’t believe you guys didn’t see you were meant for each other, soulmate or no soulmate. I know mamá and papá made us think that a perfect relationship meant having each other’s mark, but why the hell wouldn’t you think about the possibility of being the exception?” I hold back a wheeze because she’s still missing the best part. I start to sign again, but she holds up her finger.

“And another thing? Why do you two keep running away from—no don’t even start with me—running from your problems? I can’t believe I had to watch this whole thing happen. You know intervention is my thing and you’re so impossible.”

I wave my hands in the second she goes to take a breath and she finally gives me time to explain.

_“You wanna know the best part about that whole believing we’re meant for the person who has our mark thing?”_

“Oh please don’t tell me that you found—”

I shush her. _“No, I didn’t find some person who has my mark.”_ I take a dramatic pause and she rolls her hands to get me going. _“He has my mark.”_

“He _what_?!”

_“Yup.”_

“But you said…?”

_“I know what I said.”_

She runs the fingers of both hand through the sides of her hair, knocking her glasses askew. She fixes them as she says, “But how…?”

_“I don’t know either,”_ I admit, wrapping my arms around myself.

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Are you scared?”

My smile turns wry. _“A little.”_

She shakes her hand and tuts, looking at some spot to the right of the room that I can’t see. “I would be too honestly.”

I roll my eyes. _“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”_

“Still, I think things will be okay.” I nod, but it’s half-hearted. “Hey. No. You know things are going to be okay. I said so and that’s that, _claro_?”

No matter how many times I lost confidence in myself, she told me to stand the fuck back up and face things the right way. No matter how much I wanted to quit when the world was unfair, she drilled it into my head that that’s how life is and if I wanted to get my fair share of happiness, then I needed to make it happen for myself.

I picked myself back up this time, but I forget how much I need her until she’s in front of me. She can’t be here for me, but it doesn’t mean that her voice isn’t constantly in the back of my head. Her advice has always gotten me so far, but I’m no longer a duckling waddling around with the rest of my siblings. We’re all ducks making our own way.

I never tell my mamá, but Vero is more like my mama duck than anyone else.

_“Claro que si,”_ I sign.

She replies to that by softening her expression and tilting her head. She places her chin on top of elevated, folded hands. “I’m so proud of you.”

I fight back the tears this time. She’s not just talking about this. I walked in the dark by myself. I faced a professor that tried to rip me to pieces, and I won. I made friends with people who didn’t want anything to do with me at first. I helped someone find their soulmate. I brought myself here even without her at my side. No one could ever replace her, but there’s someone else who was by my side when she couldn’t be.

I don’t know when he slipped into my life like this. Maybe it was when he walked me home the first time. I was such a dick back then. Maybe I needed to be one to get where I am, but maybe not. Maybe we would’ve found each other a lot sooner than this. Maybe I could’ve learned about what happened to his parents in a way that didn’t suck. Maybe he could know me the way Vero does. We have about seven years to make up for.

Without a soulmark advantage, he still picked me up the way she does. We knocked each other down a few too many times before we got there, but it’s nothing Vero and I haven’t done to each other. At least it didn’t take a broken arm to get here.

Speaking of finding each other.

_“So you know this means you’re standing in front of the entirety of both the McClain and Sanchez clans at the reunion this summer, right? I want a proper and formal announcement about how superior the baby of the family is.”_

“Fuck,” she whispers, her smile lost to the past. “I forgot about that.”

We meet eyes again and break into laughter. We both have to look like idiots because of my soulmate. 

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  


* * *

  


Keith nestled into my side is probably my favorite thing in the world. He always feels like he’s running a fever and, considering it’s still not warm outside and our heater is broken, he’s perfect. He’s also humoring me for once and letting me play a romantic comedy I’ve been neglecting for weeks.

I’m barely paying attention, though. I think it’s about these people who have soulmates, but they want to be with each other instead. So far it’s looking like they’re getting together and their forgotten soulmates are falling for each other. I’m not exactly sure, but I think there’s a lot of weird coincidences popping up like somehow finding each other again in New York of all places. Neither of them lived there in the first place.

“This is so not realistic,” he says for the fifth time.

I pause the movie, also for the fifth time, and look at him incredulously. _“We’ve been through all of our own bullshit and you think this movie isn’t realistic?”_

“Okay, fair point.” He snuggles in closer.

I have to kiss the top of his head. His hum of approval keeps me going. I move to his temple. His forehead. His nose (he giggles at that one). His cheeks. The corner of his mouth.

He pulls back and brushes a thumb across my cheek. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s unspoken words in the air that I’ll never be able to express in a million years, so I kiss him to make up for some of it.

They’re pecks at first, but at the slightest opening of his mouth I can’t help but deepen it. He breaks it only to scoot back on the couch and lie down. I crawl on top of him no problem. He pulls me in with the tiniest prompting of his hand at the back of my neck. I dive to nip at his neck which makes him hold back a moan that only gets so far as reverberating in his chest. God I need more of that.

Before I can make that happen, I hear the click of the lock at our front door. Pidge strides in, searching the room for who knows what. When their eyes fall on us, they narrow.

“Okay, first of all, gross,” they say.

Keith scrambles to sit up straight and smooths his hair. I fall back into my corner lazily. I would’ve kept going if Keith wasn’t all weird about excessive PDA in front of our friends. It’s funny since he doesn’t care about making out in front of my lobby doorway, but when it’s people we’re close with, it’s a problem. It’s weirdly cute.

Regardless, it’s time to give them the best news.

“Second of all, I found someone who didn’t have a soulmate.”

_“Keith is my soulmate.”_

We say this simultaneously and both of us respond with an equally simultaneous, “What.”

“Okay, honestly, I’m not completely surprised by this information because of what I found out,” they say. “You’re going to want to hear this.

“So while I was with Romelle’s family, I may have let it slip that Keith doesn’t have a soulmate.” They wait for a response, but neither of us are surprised anymore, so we let them keep going. “Romelle said, ‘I never thought I’d meet someone like Bandor!’”

“Wait,” Keith interrupts. “What do you mean ‘someone like Bandor?’”

_“Also who’s Bandor?”_ I add.

“Remember Romelle’s little brother? The one who’s deaf and mute?”

Oh. Right. He’s the reason she learned to sign.

_“So what does that mean?”_

“He didn’t have a soulmate originally. When she told me that he _didn’t_ have one, I was confused because obviously Keith didn’t magically get one.” She gestures vaguely. “I guess he does magically have one now, but we’ll get to that later.

“Anyways, I asked what she meant and she said that he never got one when he was a kid. Then he met this girl about four or so years ago and they’ve been together for around a year and a half. About six months in, a soulmark showed up on his wrist. His girlfriend had always been suspicious that he was her soulmate, but they confirmed it when the words kept matching up with things she would say.”

_“Wait,”_ There’s no way, but just maybe… _“Did he used to go to school near here by any chance?”_

They tilt their head. “Yeah? How did you know?”

Holy shit. No fucking way. I swear the universe has been working in my favor lately because I found exactly who I was looking for.

_“One of the kids I tutor told me about this kid he knew—well, not exactly knew, but you get the point. He was the only one who didn’t have a soulmark when they were in middle school and he moved after people gave him shit about it.”_

They nodded. “Yeah. That’s exactly what happened to Bandor.”

Thank you for Romelle. This is karma for helping the two of them get together. Seriously. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop right now because this is too much for one man.

“That’s my story, now tell me what’s going on with Keith. When did it show up?”

“Umm,” Keith starts. “This morning actually.”

They look confused for a moment, but then it hits them. “I didn’t need to know, Keith.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Didn’t have to.”

I smirk. _“If this is how things are gonna be from now on, I don’t think I mind.”_

Pidge approaches Keith and holds their hand out, their own soulmark on full display. Must be something gushy considering the length. “Can I see?”

Keith had gone back to wearing his band in case something weird decided to rear its head. I don’t blame him. Apparently my brain’s been going to some interesting places the last few days.

He unwraps it slowly, probably still used to the embarrassment of not having a mark. He looks like he doesn’t quite believe it’ll be there the next time he looks. I know how he feels.

It’s still there and we both sigh in relief. Pidge turns his wrist back and forth, examining every inch of the words. 

_Claro que si._

She prods at it a few more times and then drops his hand. “At least that wasn’t as explicit as I thought it might be,” they say. “Well, I’m assuming it happened after you guys got together, so that matches up with what happened with Bandor. I think you guys should talk to him, though. There’s gotta be something more to this. I mean, Bandor is the one who can’t speak, but Keith is— _was_ the one without a soulmark.”

I jump to agree with them. I have to talk with Bandor. I have to know. I have to I have to I have to.

“Alright. I’ll text Romelle and see when you guys can meet. She’s kinda busy with the family right now so…” they shrug.

We nod in agreement.

“Now that that’s settled, I’m going to go wash my eyes out with bleach and ammonia because I didn’t need to see you guys getting horizontal.”

_“Aww.”_ I wrap my arms around Keith and kiss him. _“You didn’t like our pre-love-making ritual?”_ Might as well milk it for as long as possible.

“Ugh. This is why I don’t deal with all of you new couples.”

_“You don’t mind when Hunk and Shay or Adam and Shiro are hanging out with us.”_

“Yeah, but they’re not on top of each other on our couch.”

“Speak for yourself,” Keith interjects.

I wave Pidge away and tug Keith towards my room. _“Now if you’ll excuse us, we have some explicit activities to partake in.”_

Pidge groans and runs to their room. At their doorway, they stop. “Oh yeah, and Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“You hurt Lance one more time and I swear I will get you locked up in a foreign country where no one will be able to find you.”

He tenses up even as he tries to keep his cool. “I am one hundred percent positive you could do that so duly noted.”

They leave and shut the door not-so-silently behind them. 

_“Hopefully they’ve got their headphones on.”_ I mouth. _“I have some interesting things to try on you.”_

He slaps my arm. “How did I ever let myself like you?”

_“It’s all in the wrist.”_ I lift his to my mouth and press a kiss and he does the same for me. I hope that becomes a thing. It can be our thing.

_Can my brother be more gross?_

I grab up my band from my bed stand and wrap up my wrist.

“What’s up?” he asks.

_“It may or may not be a huge turnoff to look at a thought about your brother and Adam while we’re getting into it.”_

“Good call.”

I press a kiss to his lips and linger just enough to make myself dizzy. _“I’m going to absolutely wreck you.”_

He kisses me back. “You’re way too soft for that.”

Yeah. He’s the one that knows how to wreck me.

  


* * *

  


Since it’s spring break for the students, very few of them show up to tutoring, so in the end, Club Voltron shuts down early for the night. I don’t have anything else to do but walk home, but I don’t wanna miss a walk with Keith. I’ve missed out on enough of those already.

Oh wait. I know.

I tap “Martial arts dojo” into my Google Maps and find the nearest place that I’m pretty sure is the one Keith goes to. I head off and I don’t entirely believe I’m there when I have to walk through an alley. I see the light at the end and rush towards it, swinging open the door.

Inside are several parents in chairs set up against the wall. Some are content while others look competitive as all hell. 

I think I’m early because there are kids practicing. The kids are running around on the carpet in a circle. In four intervals, there’s an adult providing some sort of obstacle to break up the run. One holds up two pads to punch at, two hold a long jump rope, another counts the kids’ jumping jacks, and the last counts push-ups. 

I smile imagining Nadia and Sylvio running around in little karate outfits. There are a couple kids that are rocketing around and completing the obstacles no problem, if not a little on the sloppy side. I notice that the kids are able to stop after a few laps around the circle and they’re starting to dwindle down in number.

There’s one little girl in particular though that seems to be having a hard time. She’s a little smaller than the rest, but she’s pushing as hard as she can to keep up. Most of the kids are done, but she seems to have at least one more lap to go. When she reaches the jump rope, she looks exhausted, but a familiar voice accompanied by one other starts singing a rhyme.

_“Maria, Maria_  
_It’s nice to see ya_  
_You jump so high I wish I could be ya_  
_You’ve only got_  
_Four more to go_  
_So push right through and yell, ‘hey-ho!’”_

On her last jump she yells “hey-ho!” and runs to join the other kids along the wall. She beams at my mess of a boy and he beams right back, laughing like I’ve only seen on a few occasions.

I almost lose my composure right there and run to scoop him up and drag him straight home. Instead I take a seat next to one of the mothers. I hear her whisper to one of the other mothers.

“If I were 20 years younger—”

“I know right?”

I can’t help but laugh to myself. If I’d never seen him before, I’d be saying the same things. He looks like perfection despite the sweat beading on his forehead. He looks even cuter than usual since he’s got his hair pushed back with a pink headband I’ve never seen before and has the rest tied back in a low ponytail. 

The whole time he doesn’t spot me, which honestly is for the best. I like seeing him focused like this. The only other time I get to see this is when we watch cryptid documentaries. I can see how much the kids appreciate him, too. Every time he fixes their stance, they nod and some thank him under their breath. Every time he comes around to help out little Maria, she beams and strengthens her own focus into a scowl. She’s making a run for his money. He bites back smiles every once in a while when one of the kids cracks a joke. 

I never thought of Keith as one to be good with kids, but now that I’m seeing it, it makes sense. It’s just like Kosmo. He’s got this weirdly caring side of him that extends to everyone around him. I’m not the only one he puts himself out there for. I’m a little jealous, but more than anything, I’m just enthralled.

When the class finally ends he goes to pack up his bag and I sneak up behind him and tap him on the shoulder. He turns around and his face goes from his standard polite look to one of surprise.

“Hey,” he says.

_“Hi,”_ I mouth.

That’s all I can get in before four of the moms push into our space and start advancing on Keith.

“You were absolutely fantastic out there.”

“My son absolutely loves your teaching.”

“Maybe you can show me a thing or two.”

The last one touches his arm and he pulls away as subtly as he can. He smiles politely and puts his hands up. “Thank you, Mrs. Le. I’m actually very busy and can’t teach outside of classes.”

She pouts and doesn’t give up. “Are you sure you couldn’t make time?”

The other women are scowling at her, but she pays them no mind. Keith looks like he’s going into panic mode, so I step in to help. I push forward and kiss his cheek, then squeezing his hand. _“I’ll wait for you outside, kitten.”_

His face turns to flames and he just nods. I smirk at the women as I go to walk out the door. Before I can get there though, another little lady blocks my way. 

“What are your intentions with Keith?” Maria demands.

Big words for such a tiny girl. 

Unfortunately for her I can’t answer. I just look around for some sign of Keith. Funny enough I can handle older women with more bite, but when it comes to a kid I can’t exactly talk to, I freeze up.

“Well?” she asks. 

I give a wry smile and hope for the best. 

_“Well, he’s the person I love,”_ I mouth as slowly as possible.

She squints her eyes. “He’s the person you lobe?”

_“Love,”_ I repeat.

She has to think about that. Really think. “But what if I love him too?”

I can’t help but go soft. I would never give up Keith for the world, but maybe I’ll let her have just a tiny piece of him for now. 

_“Can we share him?”_

She hums in disapproval, but nods slightly. “Only because my mom tells me that I’m supposed to share my friends.”

Keith approaches me and puts a hand out to Maria. She slaps his hand in a low-five hard and he shakes it as if it really hurt. From that wince of pain, I would say that it’s possible she’s tougher than she looks.

“And what are you two talking about?” he asks.

Maria blushes and turns her gaze to where a woman who looks tremendously similar stands. “Nothing.”

_“Maria here was just telling me how awesome she thinks you are,”_ I confide. Luckily she’s not looking my way so she misses me embarrassing her more.

The woman waves Maria over and she looks between the two of us, deciding whether or not to give him up to me for now. 

_“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of him.”_

She scowls, something that looks identical to the ones Keith gives me, and scampers off. Her mom crouches down to gobble her up before they leave through the door. Maria bows to the inside of the room before leaving. 

When we step outside ourselves, Keith does the same thing.

_“What’s that about?”_

“The bowing?” I nod. “It’s just a sign of respect for the dojo. I make sure to do it so the kids remember to. Just a little tradition.”

_“You know, I bet my niece and nephew would love to learn karate. They’re a bundle of energy as it is. You seem like you know how to make kids happy. Man they would love it.”_

“You want me to meet them?” he asks, turning away a little bit.

He’s so freakin’ cute.

I grab his chin and make him face me. _“Of course I do.”_

He noses against me and gives me a soft kiss, one that gives me butterflies more than the rough ones. Maybe I won’t have him meet them now. I’m scared honestly that things won’t stay the same and we’ll lose each other to our vices. Still, someday I want to bring him home so he knows where I come from. I want him to know everything because I know more than too much about him. He didn’t get that luxury.

“I guess we’ll have to make that happen someday, huh?”

Hell yeah we will.

  


* * *

  


_“Do you mind turning it up a little bit?”_ I mouth to Keith. Somehow he’s got me into this documentary about Area 51 and it’s kinda more than interesting. Maybe the government really is hiding something.

Or maybe my boyfriend is the biggest dork in the world and I just wanna make him happy.

“Yeah, sure.” He leans over to tap the volume up button. _“How do you like it so far?”_

_“It’s good. Could use a little more action, but—wait did you say that out loud?”_

I turn to him and he’s grinning like a maniac. He shakes his head no and I can’t believe it. That wasn’t mouthed. That wasn’t spoken. He _signed_ at me. 

_“Did you…?”_

_“Yep.”_

_“When…?”_

_“Shiro.”_

Of course Shiro. But I didn’t notice any changes. Keith’s never signed at me. Did he know it this whole time and he pretended not to? It’s not like he really showed any indication that he knew what we talked about. Heck, only a couple months ago he was being a dick about me and Shiro signing in front of him.

“It’s not like I know that much,” he says, slipping back into speech. “Shiro just taught me a couple phrases and how to finger spell and that’s it. Romelle and Pidge tried to help too, but they were too distracted the whole time.”

_“They’re so cute.”_

He nods in agreement. 

_“Why didn’t you ask me to help you out?”_ I ask.

He shrugs and nudges my arm. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

It’s not that I’m mad or anything. I just don’t know why he didn’t tell me. I mean, I could’ve been helping him learn this whole time. It would’ve been like some romance movie and I could tell him I love him in sign language while he asks me what it means and then he’ll swoon when—

_“You want me to teach you something?”_

“Sure.”

He pauses the documentary and I angle myself to face him on the couch. He looks focused already, with the hint of a blush forming on his cheeks. I hope he never stops getting embarrassed around me. That would be amazing.

I point to my ear twice with my index finger, open-handed. Then I take my middle finger and tap my heart twice and then point my finger away as if it’s bouncing off my chest. He follows easily. We go over it a few times before he asks me what it means.

I switch over to mouthing. _“It means ‘echo my heart’. I’d prefer it to mean ‘echo of my heart’, but particles are kinda weird in sign language.”_ He looks at me in confusion and I can’t help but wheeze-giggle. _“When I was a kid, my sister Vero and I would make up nicknames for people in sign language. We didn’t do finger spelling because we thought it was too lazy. Instead, we’d create symbols out of words we already knew. So this,”_ I point to my ear and bounce my finger off my hand instead of my heart, _“means ‘echo’. I skipped ‘my’ because it’s simple and the part for ‘heart’ is exactly the same minus the bounce. I think we can just go with the ‘of’ being implied considering it’s not an official phrase.”_

“You’re calling me the ‘echo of your heart’?” he asks, sliding the tips of his fingers to brush against my own. 

I meet him halfway and entangle our fingers. _“Well you do have my words on your wrist so I’d say it’s accurate.”_

He drops his head to nuzzle into my neck. “No fair. I want to give you a nickname too.” He pops up. “Teach me the words for ‘mirror’ and ‘mind’.”

I show him the words separated and he thinks for a minute. There’s nothing much to combine so he just flips his hand back-and-forth for the first word and points to his head for the second part. 

_“And what meaning are you giving to that one?”_

“I want it to mean ‘mirror of my mind’.”

He’s right. It’s not fair. It’s not fair how he takes the words I’ve been meaning to say and throws them right back at me with the most innocent look on his face. He knows what he’s doing and if he doesn’t, that’s probably even worse. 

Saying “I love you” is one thing, but I’ve always looked at signing it as too simplistic. There’s nothing romantic about it. Instead, Vero and I would think of nicknames for friends and family, but also for people we had crushes on growing up. Nyma got “twinkle toes” because of how beautiful of a dancer she was. It wasn’t clever, but hey, she didn’t deserve much more from me.

I never got a nickname back from a crush in my own language, so sitting here on the couch with the most beautiful boy I’ve ever met while he responds to my version of “I love you” is more than overwhelming. He leans forward to wipe tears away that I didn’t know had fallen.

_“Echo of my heart,”_ I sign.

He smiles. 

_“Mirror of my mind.”_

  


* * *

  


“Guys! Let’s go!” Pidge calls from the living room. “We’re going to be late and we were all planning on going out for dinner later.”

She can hold her damn horses because I have to figure out which blue shirt I’m gonna wear. This is a special occasion. I might be finding out whether or not the love of my life is actually the love of my life. I don’t have the luxury of half-assing this day. The universe is giving me one shot and I’m taking it. 

Keith cracks open the door and gives me an unimpressed look. “You’re not even dressed yet.”

_“Thank you,”_ I sign, then mouth, _“I’m sure my lack of a shirt and proper jeans made it a little hard to tell what state of being I’m in.”_

“Pick those two and let’s go.” He points to a pair of lighter blue jeans and my blue and white baseball tee. “You always look good in that.”

_“This is not an ‘always’ kind of situation.”_

He sighs and walks forward to plant a kiss on my mouth. “It’s gonna be okay. No matter what.”

I know that. I do. I just want things to really be right. I don’t wanna be told yet again that Keith isn’t my soulmate. I know I’ll stay with him no matter what, but I don’t want him to miss out on that link. We both know it’s there regardless, but it’s nice having the proof. I guess as much as I don’t doubt us, I’m scared that somehow this will break things. I’m weak.

I nod and change while Keith and Pidge chat outside my door. Today’s the moment of truth. When I walk out that door, things could become way better or way worse in my life.

Huh. Sounds like a normal kind of day after all.

  


* * *

  


“Hi, sweetums,” Romelle greets at the door. She kisses Pidge’s cheek and turns to find Keith and I waving awkwardly. “You guys look like you’re ready to run a marathon or five.”

I’m sure I could at this rate. My whole body feels like it’s buzzing. All I want is to talk with Bandor and figure out what the hell is going on. The whole walk here I couldn’t stop tapping my fingers against Pidge, which promptly resulted in me getting flicked in the forehead numerous times.

“Well, he’s in my room right now, so why don’t you come in and I’ll show you there?”

Game time.

The best way to describe Romelle’s apartment is minimalistic. Even the furniture lacks texture and looks as if they only used one large piece of fabric as an overlay. Her wood floors were even as well. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place without those grains and little swirly parts in the floor. 

“My parents are out at the moment, but they’ll be back around dinnertime,” Romelle tells us. “I may have explained to my mother about the situation and she thought it best to give you some room to talk.”

We stop outside her door which is somehow completely free of chips, cracks, or dents. Just beyond it is the answer to my question. Or not. Who knows? Maybe this is a waste of time and I’m freaking out over getting no information whatsoever.

“Lance?” Keith questions from behind me.

_“I’m okay,”_ I sign. _“Let’s go.”_

Bandor is much more slight than Romelle and his features more soft. While she got fluffy blonde hair, he got unruly brown which brings out the light blue of his eyes. When we walk in, he’s laughing silently and signing something to a girl in the corner. A girl who is for some reason chewing gum while she speaks a little bit off-tone.

“What did I say about leaving the door shut when Aiden’s here?” Romelle chides.

Bandor rolls his eyes and signs back, _“I’m sure you know as well as I do that messing around with my girlfriend in my sister’s room is an absolute turn-off.”_

“Just as long as we’re both clear on that,” she replies. “Anyways, I’ve got a couple people who have been waiting to meet you. Lance? Keith?”

Many pairs of eyes direct their attention at us and we step forward to present ourselves. It’s quiet for a moment, but then Aiden breaks the silence with an “ah!”

“You’re the one who tried to tutor me in math!” she exclaims. 

Okay it’s not my fault that I’m bad at math. I’m not even sure why she comes in anyways considering she’s always correcting me on what I’m getting wrong.

_“That’s me.”_

“Didn’t think you actually had a problem this major.” She pops the gum out of her mouth and into a nearby trash can. “Anyways, I’m gonna be your translator today because Ban told me that your boyfriend can’t sign.”

_“So a mute guy, a deaf girl, a mute and deaf guy, and a perfectly able guy walk into a room…”_ I mouth. Bandor and Aiden both giggle at that.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Romelle wraps an arm around Pidge and they go off to do whatever they do when they hang out. Probably cuddle and act all cute and shit.

Aiden looks between the three of us and waits. None of us makes a move to sign, speak, mouth, or anything. What do you say when you find out someone else is going through the same thing you went through? What do you say to someone who may give you an answer you’ve been dreading.

“Oh my god,” she groans. “Someone just start.”

Bandor smiles at her. _“Alright. Alright.”_ He clears his throat on reflex and faces the two of us while Aiden focuses solely on him. _“So did you two want to explain your story first, or should I tell mine?”_

Aiden repeats for him and Keith responds. “Maybe I could tell you our side first?”

Bandor nods and lets Keith talk. He hits all the major points: he didn’t have a soulmark his whole life, he didn’t believe in soulmarks because of his parents, he met me, we got together—he skips the part about getting together, and ends with getting up Sunday morning with blue glowing writing on his left wrist. Aiden makes sure to sign the whole thing so Bandor doesn’t get lost.

_“Curious,”_ Bandor says after thinking a while. _“And you’re sure, Lance, that his words are on your wrist?”_

_“Positive.”_

He nods. _“Well, alright, then I guess it’s my turn to talk._

_“I’m sure Romelle told you that I wasn’t born deaf or mute. I got into an accident when I was younger and I lost the ability to hear and speak properly. I mean, I can hear to a certain extent, but not well enough. It happened around when I was 10 and I wasn’t exactly excited to be that different._

_“When everyone else’s soulmarks started showing up when they turned 13, I didn’t understand why mine wouldn’t. I didn’t quite believe in the idea of soulmates anymore, but still, I didn’t think that nothing would show up. I hid it for a couple years, but someone got to wondering why they’d never seen my mark. Lo and behold, they managed to get my band off, and I didn’t stop hearing about it for months._

_“I moved schools, but not before becoming friends with Aiden.”_ He regards her with pride. _“We didn’t start dating immediately, but I fell in love with her pretty quickly. When I found out she felt the same way? I was terrified, but somehow I thought it’d be okay. She knew I didn’t have a soulmark and she loved me anyway. How could I give her up?”_

I slip my hand into Keith’s for a moment and squeeze. He squeezes back. 

_“The next day was when my soulmark showed up.”_ He holds up his arm and some calculations are written in a deep orange on his wrist. I guess siblings pick the same types of people to be in love with.

“Wait,” Keith interrupts. “Lance is the mute one, though. I’m the one that didn’t have a soulmark. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

_“Would you like to hear my theory?”_

How is that even a question?

Bandor continues. _“You didn’t believe in soulmates, right?”_ Keith nods. _“Neither did I. I hated myself back then. I didn’t understand why I had to get in that accident. I didn’t think anyone could actually love me. When my soulmark didn’t show up, I didn’t believe even more so. Then Aiden showed up and suddenly I’ve got the person I was always meant to be with right by my side.”_

Then it dawns on me. Keith didn’t believe in soulmates. Not only did he not believe in them, but he refused to believe in them starting from when he was a kid. If he didn’t believe in them then, then he wouldn’t have when he was 13, which is when it should’ve showed up.

“So what you’re saying is, if you don’t believe in soulmates, you don’t get to have a soulmate?” Keith asks.

_“Precisely.”_

You wanna talk about romantic? Well, let’s talk about romantic. I’m the reason Keith has a soulmark. It’s me. I did this. I mean, I think I’m giving myself a little too much credit because he had to be the one to fall in love, but he fell in love with me. Somehow I gave him something he never could’ve had before. He was always going to be my soulmate, but I wasn’t always going to be his. 

_“That’s insane,”_ I sign.

“You’re telling us,” Aiden says. “I flipped shit when I saw my words.”

_“It took me forever to convince her that I hadn’t been lying about not having a soulmark.”_ Bandor pokes her shoulder and she sticks her tongue out at him.

_“Aiden? Don’t translate this next part,”_ Bandor says. Keith looks on in confusion when Aiden does what he says, but she keeps quiet. _“I was terrified at the idea of loving someone who had a soulmark. I thought that maybe the soulmark would change and be gone in an instant, then Aiden would leave.”_

Aiden rolls her eyes. “You know that’s not true, though.”

_“I do, but I didn’t at first. Just...be careful with him? I don’t really know him well, nor do I know you, but the only way to help him is to keep showing him that you’re not going anywhere. Just a word to the wise.”_

I grin and nod. That was the plan from the beginning. _“I’m not planning on giving him away any time soon.”_

Just then my phone buzzes in my jacket pocket. I pull it out to silence the distraction when I see the sender.

**Linda: I’m so sorry to do this on your day off, but would you mind coming in for a couple hours? We’re short a tutor and we’ve got a few more kids than usual. I don’t want to make them wait too long. The parents are a little on the restless side.**

If I didn’t have my answers, I probably wouldn’t go in. Actually, scratch that. I would. But enough with the hypotheticals. This visit has to be cut short.

_“Sorry. Work calls,”_ I tell them. Aiden translates for me as Keith can’t see my mouth at the moment. 

I turn to look at him to signal that we need to go, but there’s a smirk on his face. Is he actually happy that I got called in? The jerk. He’s lucky I love him.

“Want me to go with you?” he asks. 

_“Why would you go with me?”_

He shrugs, not-so nonchalantly. “Company for the walk.”

I mean, I could use the company I guess. I don’t necessarily mind walking around in the daytime. Heck, walking around at night isn’t as bad. Well, sort of. I still want Keith there just in case. Of course, I can’t say no to my soulmate wanting to walk me all the way to work. 

I hold out a hand to Bandor and he takes it. _“Thanks.”_

_“Anything for a fellow unmarked person. We have to stick together.”_

I say my goodbyes to everyone else in the apartment. I’d like to stay and ask more questions about how Bandor managed everything and especially how Aiden so easily accepted his situation. She’s a freaking trooper. 

“Ready to go?” Keith asks in the open doorway.

_“Off to the grind.”_

  


* * *

  


I spot Linda waiting outside of Club Voltron, searching for something. When she spots me, she scampers up and takes my hands in hers. “Oh thank goodness you’re here. There’s a scheduled appointment and they need you right away.”

_“No problem. Just gotta say goodbye to my boy here,”_ I sign.

“Oh?” She peeks around me to examine the aforementioned boy. “So this is him?”

Wait, how does she know about him? 

Just as I’m about to ask her she begins pushing me inside. Instead of Keith leaving, he trails behind, biting back a smile that’s way too suspicious for its own good. 

_“Linda, please stop pushing. I can walk in my—”_

Standing in front of me is who’s probably my scheduled appointment. I only know because it’s Kinkade and it’s not his usual day. Not only that, but he’s with his parents. Oh shit. What did I do this time? Did I say something weird? Did he mention something and his parents decided that it wasn’t appropriate? Oh god what if he’s failing?

_“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Kinkade,”_ I sign slowly. _“It’s nice to meet you.”_

They smile and it’s genuine. Okay, so maybe I’m not in trouble. They both gesture for me to take a seat and I do so. Keith remains standing and glances at me out of the corner of his eye. He’s stiffer than I usually see him, which is odd considering recent events. He’s hiding something. What the hell.

_“What is this about?”_ I ask.

The Kinkades look at each other and finally Kinkade begins to sign. 

_“So I’m not exactly here for tutoring.”_ I raise my eyebrows and he continues. _“I’ve been working with a speech therapist for years. I’ve never gotten all that far, but a couple months ago I decided there was something I really wanted to say, so we worked on that.”_

Kinkade and I have never really talked about how he lost his voice. I don’t usually ask people about it. I know I’m fine telling the story because it’s always been that way, but for some kids it was a traumatic experience or they’re embarrassed about not being able to do something they could do so easily before. I can’t imagine how Bandor explains what happened to him. I’m sure he’s more comfortable now considering how easily Aiden accepted him, but I don’t know about Kinkade. It wasn’t long ago that he wasn’t even comfortable talking to me in general.

There’s a slight upturn in his lips and he clears his throat.

“Thank you.”

Cue the fucking waterworks.

Keith crouches down by my side and holds my hands and I can’t see what expressions everyone else is making because I’m borderline blind right now. All that’s left is deafness and I’ll have the holy trifecta.

I don’t know what I did to deserve this kid. I don’t know how I deserve any of the people I have in my life. He’s a good kid and I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything. I just talked to him. He doesn’t need to say thank you to me. There were a million other people he could’ve chosen to talk to, but he chose me. 

Someone laughs and I know it’s Kinkade because it’s wheezing. A woman’s voice chimes in, deep and smooth. “Kinkade said you’re wrong about your face not being able to be messed up.”

I wipe my eyes in the crook of my elbow and hiccup. _“Guess you did.”_

“I think this calls for a commemorative photo, don’t you think?” Linda says somewhere above me.

I stand with Keith’s help and soon his arms and Kinkade’s are around me. I can’t believe I’m allowing a photo to be taken of me with my face red and my eyes puffy, but I don’t care right now. I can care later. 

Kinkade didn’t need to speak to touch my heart, because he’s done it a thousand times with gestures, but it’s now that I realize that words, regardless of if they’re from your soulmate or not, matter. Simple vibrations that I’ll never be able to replicate and god do I wish I could just to tell everyone in my life what they mean. I have to settle with signing. That’s the best I can do.

So I try. I really try. I remember Vero’s nicknames for everyone and pick one for Kinkade that’ll stick in my mind forever. This not-so-silent kid with the mind of a genius hiding beneath. He’s got a louder voice than even Aiden could hope to replicate.

I twist my fist at my throat and drag my fingers back from my head.

_“See ya next session, Mute Lion.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I attempted to write this end note without crying, but like Lance, just starting this meant the waterworks were upon me.
> 
> I can't believe I wrote this monster fic. I started it in August not really thinking about where it'd take me. I didn't think it'd get so much love from all of the people who read it. Some of you left messages that made me cry because I can't believe I could bring happiness with this self-indulgent project. I'm actually planning on making a print-out of some of your comments to put on my wall as a reminder that someone out there is cheering me on.
> 
> I wish I could say I was going to continue with this series, but I decided a while back that I was going to stop writing fanfiction on the New Year. I love doing this, but since my dream is to become a writer, I want to start building my own stories outside of pre-existing universes. I've had a story on the backburner for years and I'd like to focus my energy on it.
> 
> But damn am I gonna miss these characters. I'm gonna miss Voltron. I'm gonna miss you guys. 
> 
> If I could speak to you guys just like Kinkade did, I would say the same words with the same conviction. You deserve that.
> 
> It's been an honor flying with you, boys. (T^T)ゞ


	13. Strawberry Mint Chip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think of this more like an epilogue that I technically wasn't supposed to write but I did it anyways. Whoops.

All things considered, Pidge in meltdown mode on their wedding wasn’t something I would’ve imagined. I’ve seen them scream at their laptop, drunkenly declare that they would take over the universe as supreme leader, and then subsequently attack a trash can because it was taller than them, but this is a whole new level in a whole other game.

“There is _no way_ I can wear this,” they say, gesturing wildly at a classic black tuxedo with a green handkerchief thrown over it. “She is going to look like an elven princess and I am going to look like a basic douchecanoe.”

_“I don’t think it’s possible for you to look like a douchecanoe,”_ I correct.

Keith chuckles next to me while Pidge attempts to pin us both into place with their glare. “I am seriously regretting asking you to be my Maid of Honor.”

_“No one else can be as matronly as me and you know it.”_

They sigh and slide their hands down their face. “She is gorgeous and amazing and here I am just...yeah.”

Nope. No no no. That will not stand. I turn to Keith for assistance and he’s already got the calculations running in his head. The idea grows in his eyes and finds its way out of his mouth.

“Let’s find you a different outfit.”

Their eyes widen. “Are you kidding me? It is my wedding day and you are suggesting I find a completely new outfit to wear?”

“Yep.”

Their face contorts like they’re going to crumble at any minute, but their resolve seeps back into them ever so slowly. There’s not enough to say that they’re hopeful—that would be asking far too much—but there’s enough to get them out the door if we move fast enough.

_“Well,”_ I fling open the front door of my and Keith’s apartment, _“let’s go shopping.”_

It’s times like this I remember the conveniences of owning a car. Pidge’s parents are supposed to take us all to the venue later so they’re out of commission and Keith only has his bike. My office is a 20 minute walk from my apartment and I’m already paying off student loans. I don’t need to be making car payments alongside them. Still, I’m starting to see the appeal.

I lead the way while Keith tries to even Pidge out the best he can. It’s a miracle that it’s working at all. He’s absolute shit at calming himself down. I once watched him spit fire to himself when some documentarian tried to debunk _La Llorona._ I was pissed too considering I grew up with that _puta bruja_ in my nightmares and the idea of that being for nothing was unthinkable, but he was going off. It was nothing a blanket nest and ice cream couldn’t fix, but that required picking him up off the floor. He is one floppy boy when he wants to be.

It’s been ages since I walked this path, but it’s the same as always minus a couple business changes and new paint colors on some of the buildings. Bare branches hold up centimeters worth of snow, some of it threatening to pelt us. The sky, pale and bright, wakes up my system better than the two cups of coffee from earlier.

It’s nothing compared to the holy Best Buy sign when we reach our destination.

I spin around and sign to Pidge. _“Remember this place?”_

“It’s not like I haven’t been here a thousand times,” they say, aiming for bite, but the soft smile on their face betrays their true feelings.

_“We have to go in.”_

“I don’t know if you forgot, but I am getting married today.”

_“Yeah?”_

“We don’t have time to play around.”

I hook my arm around theirs and drag them along. _“Sure we do.”_

The inside rarely changes, but the video game section is the one exception. Long gone are the days of the PS4 and now the PS5 has come into vogue. They keep remaking the same damn games for the newer console, but I guess it’s the thought that counts. 

“Lance, we need to go,” Pidge tries to dig their heels into the dingy carpet.

_“Just a few more minutes.”_ I breathe in for no other reason than to irritate them. _“I wanna get that good ol’ new chrome smell.”_

Keith places his hands on their shoulders to keep them from murdering me. “Maybe this could help actually.” Pidge shoots him a dirty look and aims their foot, but he holds steady. “This is where you met. You need to find an outfit that could match up to whatever dress she chose, so you should think about the sentimental stuff and see where it gets you.”

They sigh but amble down the aisle to think about who knows what. Hopefully something that doesn’t make them lose their mind further. Keith sidles up to me and bumps my arm.

“They’re gonna be okay,” he assures me.

_“I know.”_ I roll my shoulders. _“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna be a mother hen while my baby chick is panicking.”_

He squeezes my shoulder and melts me with that fond gaze I’ll never get tired of. It’s part appreciation for me dealing with his bullshit and loving him anyways, but it’s also soft puppy love that never got hammered out. I’ll never tell him that he does it. He’d inevitably stop just to spite me.

“Guys! I got it!” Pidge screeches, gaining us the attention of a Very concerned mother in the printer aisle across from us.

Their grin is unperturbed and they drag us both out by the wrists to not one, not two, but four stores to find exactly what they’re looking for. I make sure to call their parents and let them know to meet us here considering we’re cutting it pretty close. I don’t need two brides losing their shit today.

With the last insert of a debit card into a machine, we venture out with four brand name shopping bags and renewed determination.

  


* * *

  


“I don’t know why you’re freaking out this close to the ceremony,” Keith tells me, entirely unaware of the situation.

_“Hello? It’s Pidge and Romelle’s wedding? I am the Maiden of Honor and everything has to go perfect and I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop because it always does and then Pidge is gonna hate me and oh god what if Romelle doesn’t go through with it because I’m the worst person ever and—”_

He catches my hands and stares at me in that intense way he always does when I’m breaking. Anyone on the outside would think he’s demanding that I stop moving, but really he’s just trying to get me to focus on the present so he can read whatever the heck I’m signing.

I take a deep breath and try to use my X-ray vision on the door we’re all going to be walking through in just minutes. That’s the doorway to the rest of Pidge’s life with their soulmate. They’ve been attached at the hip since they met, but this is more than that. I can’t believe it’s happening so soon, but I also can’t believe it hasn’t happened already.

They went through a lot the last few years. Pidge got an offer to work in another state on was essentially the dream job of a lifetime especially for someone just out of graduate school. They can’t tell us what they’ve been doing, but I know that whatever it is, they’re using their hacking skills to the fullest. At least that’s what they keep telling me. I’ve never had the proper computer security to call them on their bluff.

Romelle, on the other hand, didn’t—or I guess couldn’t move further from her family than she already had. Bandor’s immune system stopped working properly and she had to be around in case her parents couldn’t monitor him. They had work and Aiden had school, so someone else had to be there. Pidge almost called to reject their job offer when it happened, but Romelle took their phone and made them promise not to stay because of her.

It broke Pidge to a certain extent. They couldn’t always convince themself that their relationship was real. They were waiting for the next issue to rise up and tear them apart or for someone to waltz in and reveal that there was a misunderstanding and Pidge and Romelle weren’t soulmates. They once said something about the universe fucking up their soulmark just like it fucked with Keith’s. I think that was the first time the two of them legitimately fought.

I had my new clients and Keith was busy working with the local humanitarian group on their newest project, so we didn’t see everything that Romelle went through. We tried to visit Bandor in the hospital as much as we could, though. She was endlessly exhausted, but she would go soft whenever her phone range and “Darling <3” flashed on the screen. She’d put them on speaker and we’d all talk. We mostly let the two of them catch up while we entertained Bandor. It was brutal when they had to hang up. She would look like a part of her heart chipped away every time it happened.

It took about a year, but when the doctors were sure Bandor could be discharged, Romelle was on a plane. She snapchatted Keith and I the whole way through her trip. The best ones were the ones I got from both her and Pidge simultaneously. I’d never seen them more alive. Not even when they engineered their floating robot companion, Rover.

Romelle finagled her way out there while being shoved out by her family, especially Bandor. She found a idyllic two-story building squished between apartments where she could start a bakery and had no reason to be anywhere else. I have to add that her Instagram is my ultimate dream. Pidge, you’re marrying the right girl.

Music crescendos behind the door and Keith releases my hands with a nod. He’s part of the wedding procession too, but Allura is Romelle’s Maid of Honor which makes her my partner for the walk. Keith hooks arms with one of Romelle’s former sorority sisters with a name that reminds me of a mermaid. I can’t remember what the hell it was. Mer...ma? No.

Allura slips her arm into mine. “Ready to give our little persons away?” she asks, a smirk planted on her face.

I shake my head. She nudges me playfully and turns her attention to the front.

It’s been a while since I’ve been with everyone like this. Besides Keith and the Arusian graduate and Allura and me, Hunk and Shay, Shiro and Curtis, Aiden and Bandor, and Pidge’s brother Matt and another Arusian graduate line up in their respective rows. I’m just glad it’s for a fun reason this time.

The doors are opened by two men in gray suits with colored pocket squares. The one on the left has his in green to coincide with Pidge’s guests while the one on the right has his in pink for Romelle’s. Heads are already facing our direction, smiles and cameras ready.

“Oh my god Pidgey is actually getting married,” Pidge’s brother, Matt, tries to whisper.

Yeah. They really are.

Instead of the typical wedding march, Romelle wanted something more them. Pidge just wanted her to be happy, so they let her run free.

Okay, that’s sorta the truth. In reality Pidge had to veto almost all of her choices because Romelle’s definition of romantic involves didgeridoos and overzealous flute solos. Allura was roped in only after Pidge was found passed out on their living room floor, phone still in hand, pages and pages of musician research scattered around them like the outlining of an ill-created snow demon.

Instead, woodwinds waft through the air accompanied by the light plucking of strings. The only way I can describe it is like those village festivals in fantasy or Disney movies. Everyone is gathered in a meadow filled with flowers of vivacious pinks among deep green grass with zero signs of drought. I have to be content with keeping my eyes open despite how much I want to watch people dance behind my eyelids. Muteness hasn’t been much of a problem during this whole wedding process, but I’m sure blindness wouldn’t be a welcome change right about now.

Even as we pass, no one follows us with their eyes. They prepare for more than just our borderline meaningless procession. For once we are traditional background noise paving way for something more grand to emerge.

Pidge was always a soft person, but their fitted rose gold blazer and white blouse show off the squishy nature they usually hide within hoodies and shorts; maybe jeans on a cold day. They kept going on earlier about wanting to bring their two colors together and so they picked green khaki dress pants with heels matching the blazer. When they dressed feminine, they knew what the hell they were doing.

Romelle isn’t any less beautiful, but it’s obvious that every skill her wedding team had went into her look. Her sleeves are sheer and are separate from the dress until mid-upper arm where they flow below her waist. Baby pink dried flowers shift ever so slightly within the translucent fabric overlaying the main skirt. She opted not to hold flowers walking down the aisle, so she instead tucked a juniberry flower from her mother’s garden into her braided updo.

Their hands grip tight. They beam.

God do they beam.

Dr. Coran, apparently a close family friend of both Allura’s and Romelle’s families, goes through his script as the two hold back giggles.

“And now I believe you have vows to exchange?” he prompts.

Pidge pulls a folded sheet of paper from the inner pocket of their blazer and clears their throat.

“I’ve never had a problem memorizing anything until writing these words down,” they start, garnering chuckles from the audience. “I could barely figure out what to write down in the first place. Guess I didn’t want to ever forget. Not in front of you. Not this time.”

They clear their throat and move to adjust their glasses, but remember they ditched them in favor of contacts today. They try to pass off the movement as a way to push back their bangs, but I know better.

“When I was a kid, no one but Matt—my brother for those of you who don’t know—thought I was funny. No one humored my math jokes, my computer jokes, my ace jokes. So when I got my soulmark, I didn’t know whether to believe in it or not.

“When I met you for the second time, every part of me was terrified that I wasn’t going to be...enough and sometimes I’m still scared that it’s true. I mean, I know you looked in the mirror this morning and I know you know that you are the most gorgeous being in the universe.” Romelle twists around in her skirt and Pidge’s smile grows soft.

“I don’t know when I’ll stop being scared. Maybe it’ll be tomorrow when the papers are signed and you’ve got my name. Maybe it’ll be when we’re playing shuffleboard in an old people home. Maybe it’ll be never. Maybe I’ll always wonder if we’re wrong and you should be with some other math nerd. But I don’t want you to be with another math nerd, so maybe we could hang out together until I figure it out? That would be pretty cool.”

Pidge sniffles and Romelle leans down to wipe tears from the corners of their eyes. A wet laugh breaks forward and they halfheartedly swat her hands away.

“I guess it’s my turn then?” she asks Coran and he nods. “I must start by saying I’m absolutely appalled you upstaged me just then because it was everything a girl needs to get her through the next twenty billion millennia.” She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if what I have to say will ever measure up, but here goes.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I was an absolute mess on our first Valentine’s Day. My outfits didn’t fit right, our reservations got cancelled and we only found out when we arrived at the restaurant, and I broke a heel on the way home.” Her cheeks flush at the memory. 

“But when I kissed you in my doorway, it occurred to me that you commented on how impressive it was that a regular old store could get measurements so right; how the restaurant was bunk, as you say, and that you had a better idea; how you happened to be carrying the right type of glue to put my shoe back together. I might add that it’s as tough as ever to this day.

“I don’t need you to be sure every single day of your life that we’re real. All I need you to know is that as scared as you are, I’m right there with you. I will be there through every emotional cycle because that’s what we’ve done for each other even when we were states and states away, and that’s what we will continue to do for each other. I would never trade away the calculations on my wrist even if they baffle me endlessly. I love you too much for that.”

If we all weren’t crying before, we’re sobbing now. Allura looks up to the ceiling to keep her makeup from running and Keith wipes a sleeve across his eyes while looking off to the side. Shay is the only one keeping it together while Hunk lets his own tears stream without efforts to conceal them.

Rings are exchanged, each with their colors swirled in an inset stone. A quiet kiss. An erupting crowd. Soul-linked friends get pushed even closer together while their friends huddle around them. 

When I get the chance to lock eyes with Pidge, they nod and I return the gesture without another word. I have time today to tell them what I need to. Right now? It’s party time.

  


* * *

  


_“See that guy over there?”_ I point to a silver-haired man at the other corner of the room, his fifth drink swaying dangerously in his hand.

Keith leans in to get better perspective. “You mean the one trying to eat that chick’s neck?”

_“Trying? I think he might be succeeding.”_

“I don’t see blood yet.”

_“Any second now, my man, and we’ll have a full-blown case of vampirism.”_

He chuckles while I sip my beer. “I’m the resident expert on cryptids so I’m sure I’d recognize a vampire attack if I saw one.”

People filter into the ballroom, examining cards on tables to find their seats. We have it easy what with being appointed to the big boys table next to the lovely table which meant the wedding procession could sit wherever they want up here. Allura and Merla—I knew it sounded like a mermaid thing—talk animatedly while Luka watches as Matt taps away probably at some app he engineered. She looks enraptured, which is a new one for him.

Shiro sits at the opposite end from Keith and I, which means I have no trouble catching him staring at Pidge and Romelle at their bridal table. His eyes carry a thick glaze, his mind somewhere leagues away. It’s not something unfamiliar. Not anymore.

Not long after getting together, Shiro asked Adam to marry him. Keith was assigned wedding planning duty with Allura and he would come home rattling off details and asking my opinions. I learned to avoid his desk area for a while so I wouldn’t disrupt his organization system. 

The venue was astounding, the food expensive-looking but normal enough for us peasants to consume, and I’d never seen Shiro brighter.

It was Keith that got the call. Shiro was working at Altea and the morning rush always kept him occupied. I woke up to Keith rocking back and forth and muttering the same words over and over again. For the first time in my life he wouldn’t let me touch him to help get him calm. 

_“What am I supposed to do?”_ he asked the room.

A hand lands gently on Shiro’s shoulder and his memory bubble pops. The owner of the hand squeezes gently and Shiro squeezes his hand in turn.

Curtis is unsuspecting and a more serious than Adam was, but no one knows more than Shiro that he’s who he wants and needs. Never once has Curtis told him to get over it. His touches are grounding rather than a show of concern or anxiety.

Shiro didn’t magically get a changed soulmark and Curtis didn’t either, but they had each other. Curtis’s was platonic which suited him and his soulmate perfectly. After all, Allura wasn’t exactly his type and she had bigger plans for herself than getting married anytime soon.

Clinking of glasses means it’s time to saddle up. Pidge and Romelle asked me to make a speech as Pidge’s Maiden of Honor. It’ll be easy. Piece of cake. Romelle’s got her translation skills down after all these years.

Each set of parents finish their own words and hold them both tightly and wish them all the luck in the universe. Allura goes into a story about the time Romelle ended up at her house wasted and rambling about how much she loved Pidge’s singular dimple.

It’s my turn and all eyes are on me. I clear my throat despite no future signs of use and move to where they can interpret me properly.

_“Romelle, as much as I love you and everything you’ve done for our little birdbrain, this is more for them than anything, so I apologize in advance,”_ Romelle translates, laughing at the last bit. She ushers me to go on and I make my gestures overly deliberate. _“Pidgey, I don’t know if you know this, but you’ve always made me stronger. Every time I thought about dropping out of school and becoming a stripper, your nagging voice popped into my head to tell me to suck it up. Every time I got in a fight with Keith, you kicked my ass while simultaneously telling me it’s okay for things to go wrong every once in a while._

_“I wouldn’t have found my own happiness if I hadn’t met you. I miss you every day that you’re not with the gang, but you’re never all that far from my heart.”_ I stop for a second because I’m supposed to be done, but I never did get the ending right. I think I know it now, though. _“Romelle, can you not translate this last part?”_ She stops and nods.

_“I love you and you will never know how fucking proud I am of you every single day, loser.”_

Pidge rushes me and for such a tiny person, they know how to squeeze.

Everyone takes their seats and dinner is served. We trade stories about Hunk’s budding restaurant and the little garden Shay’s been working with on their balcony. Of course I keep nudging them in the direction of adding a kid to their family. Uncle Lance needs to be a thing.

Okay I know I’m already Uncle Lance to a couple of little ones but they’re old now!

When the music ramps up I jump to my feet and stretch out a hand to Keith. I wiggle my eyebrows and he takes hold with a scoff.

It’s only been minutes of dancing, but Keith alerts me that my concept of time is entirely off and it’s time to head out. We’re all getting together for brunch tomorrow since we couldn’t do a rehearsal dinner with everyone yesterday. It definitely won’t be any time before 1, but we’re slipping into the later hours right now and I need to get my routine done in a timely manner.

Winter nips my nose, but at least my peacoat jacket protects the main body. Keith squeezes my hands of any and all warmth since for some godforsaken reason he refuses to wear gloves. I have _noooo_ idea why he would do that. It’s not like his boy toy got him a special wristband when they were younger and stupider and he refuses to take it off now. That couldn’t possibly be it.

“I’m never gonna get over walking with you like this,” he says.

_“I’m never gonna get over the fact that you offered to walk with me like this.”_

He shrugs. “Guess the universe was shipping us pretty hard.”

_“Guess it was.”_

We collapse into bed as soon as we get home, barely managing to remove our rental tuxes in the process.

“Lance?”

I roll to signal my attention.

“You need to wash your face.”

I shake my head.

“Lance.”

I shake it harder and he flops his head back.

“Suit yourself.”

I peek at his closed eyes and watch him breathe for a while before poking him. He barely opens them before grunting.

_“Our wedding has to be ten bajillion times better than that,”_ I demand.

He pulls my hand into his and kisses my knuckles. “Whatever you want as long as I can go to sleep now.”

I press my lips to our hands this time and examine our rings, the distinct carvings of “mirror of my mind” and “echo of my heart” in looping lettering gleam in the sliver of moonlight that snuck its way into our cozy haven. To think that once upon a time we fought in the middle of Altea makes me chuckle silently. 

I have an intense craving for a mocha latte.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I couldn't leave this story alone and had to add something on. Sometimes when I get really stressed (like I am right now) I have to turn to writing for a way to rejuvenate. I love these characters and this world too much, so I guess I couldn't say goodbye. Not entirely.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all of your love on all of these chapters. You guys give me a place to go to when I need to get words out. I'll never stop being grateful.


	14. A Quick Poll

Hey guys! It's ya girl Teddy.

Lately I've been thinking about Echo My Heart and Only Stardust and how I wish they were better. I didn't have enough editing when I wrote them and I sure as hell didn't have a beta reader to help me out. I went back and re-read chapters a few times and I just wanted to re-do a lot of what I wrote, but I hadn't made the determination that I should just do it. That being said, my brain finally convinced me that it's time to get it done. Keith needs more brooding time, Lance needs more show-off time, and there are some scenes that need adding and fixing. I figured you guys wouldn't mind a little TLC to make these fics more than they already are.

So what I want to know from you guys is: do I start with Echo My Heart or Only Stardust first? I only post here because more people have read this fic, but I know some of you like Only Stardust as well and that was the first one (meaning it needs editing like crazy). I also want to know if anyone has any experience with beta reading because it might be nice to have someone help me fix those areas where the fic doesn't quite make sense or needs something more. Please look below to find out more information on becoming a beta reader. 

Let me know in the comments what you guys think and I hope to speak to some editors too! Time to revamp these babies <3

See ya soon.

P.S. Thank you again for all of the support throughout my fics over the last year or so. Seriously. Writing for all of you has been a pleasure and it's what makes me want to give you more and better content for future enjoyment.

  


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**For Beta Applicants:**

Please send an e-mail to teddykruegerao3@gmail.com with the following information:

Name:  
Age:  
Are You in School?:  
Fic(s) You Want to Work On:  
Are You a Writer?:  
Have You Watched All of Voltron?:  
Have You Read All of Echo My Heart (Includes Mirror My Mind)?:  
Have You Read All of Only Stardust?:  
Any Experience You Have with Editing (Can Include Samples):  
Why Do You Want to Beta Read? (100 Words Max.):

I will need one beta reader for each fic. I will also be giving a short test to those who send an application, so make sure to check your e-mail for that. **Applications will be closing on July 15th, so make sure you have time for me to evaluate your work!**


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